Blissed out in Bali

8th-14th January

What can I say about Bali? Or more specifically, Ubud? It is, quite simply, a little piece of heaven here on earth. And after last night’s worst of the worst hotel experience, we enter another world at Greenfields. Our beautiful room does indeed over look green fields - and we become intimately acquainted with the life-cycle of a paddy field over the next few days. It’s a brand new room, with a huge, comfortable bed – with no bugs – opening onto a large terrace, with a sofa, two chairs, coffee table and another massive bed seat that just invites you lounge and contemplate the view. And best of all, there is a huge bathroom, with the best shower in the world – you could have a party in it, it’s so big – as well as wonderful bath. After Catimoer and the sulphur mine, we are almost dancing with joy.

While most of Indonesia is Muslim, Bali is Hindu. But Balinese Hinduism is a one-off variety. We are to learn a little about it in the days to come, but you could study it for a lifetime and still have more to learn. The atmosphere is much calmer and more orderly than Java – and the 3.5 hour road journey from the ferry to the hotel is the first example of this.


There are one or two instances of commercialism. And with apologies to Jane Austen – It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Westerner on the streets of Ubud must be in need of a taxi, if not today, then definitely tomorrow. But this hardly amounts to hustling. We grow used to a gentle daily cycle: – breakfast, check paddy field activity, pool, lunch, check paddy fields, stroll, massage, check paddy fields, sundowners, supper. Occasionally this varies with a visit to a traditional dance performance – with wonderful vocal accompaniment, a hundred men chanting “chaka, chaka, chaka” – an art gallery, the monkey forest, a little light shopping, or even a cycle tour of the surrounding countryside. But we are here to relax after our hectic tour of Java. And for me, it’s a perfect end to an amazing 12 week trip, where I daren’t think how many miles I’ve covered. Writing this, I realise my six nights in Bali is the longest time I’ve stayed in one place. But that’s another story.

Back to Balinese Hinduism, and the concept of harmony. There are human beings, plants and animals, which are inseparably from each other. The three are called “Tri Hita Karana” – which means three ways to respect. The concept of respect includes respect from humans to the Gods, through ritual, prayer and celebration which is integral to Balinese life. Respect for each other, through communication and discussion, and respect for the environment.

I spend an hour talking to a local artist about his life in Ubud and life in London. He cannot understand why we have so few religious celebrations – I manage Christmas, Easter and harvest festival – nor why we only go to church on Sunday (“what do you do on Monday, Tuesday etc?) – nor that so few people go to church, and that the rest of the community don’t mind. In Bali, everyone makes an offering of thanks every day, sometimes three times a day – you see these little baskets of flowers everywhere on the streets. Every family has its own temple, and there are several community temples in each village, each of which has a specific purpose. Giving thanks is a way of life. Just as respect for your neighbours and the animals and environment that support you.

The simplicity of this life is evident in the paddy fields. The women, for it is largely women, work from dawn until dusk, occasionally scurrying for cover during a downpour. They form an effective production line - our fields are ready for harvest, so we don’t see the earlier process – but a team of 10 can enter a field, cut, beat and winnow to sort rice from chaff, bag the rice seed and move on within a morning. But when they move out, the duck tenders – mainly men – move in. I learn from my artist friend that most work is done by women. I ask what the men do. “Cockfighting!”. And gambling on the outcome, of course, Paddy ducks are a specific breed, or they have had their wings clipped, as they can’t fly away. But our ducks are perfectly content and merrily quack their way through the cut fields feeding on discarded rice. We notice that some field have young ducks, while others have fatter ducks – some of which disappear into a bag each night. Female ducks may lay eggs, but they don’t get to hatch them. They are put under hens, and the ducklings follow the hen around until they are old enough to go into their own nursery field. And so life goes on in rural Bali. Five days is not enough. I will go back soon.