Hanging On

Since arriving in Uluwatu I have had the privilege of meeting a couple of very nice ladies: Taryn from California, and Mette from Denmark. It is funny how fate brings people together. Although the three of us are from different countries, are different ages, and have very different backgrounds, in many ways, the three of us find ourselves in a similar place in life as we each seek to be our best selves and strive to live a life with purpose.

Last night we walked to the end of the street where people go to the edge of the cliff to watch the sun set. We arrived there early, beer in hand, and enjoyed the view while chatting.

It was very windy, and it would still be a while before the sun sunk behind the horizon, so we squatted on the ground and chatted.

The wind blew and blew and before long we were being sandblasted as the dirt was whipped up by the wind and tossed in our faces. We could barely open our eyes. But still we sat, waiting for the sun to set. Miserable, skin stinging, hair in knots.

All afternoon the three of us had been chatting and so we were not at all surprised to find out we had many things in common. As we sat chatting, dirt in our mouths, we talked about our shared desire to walk the Camino. I told a story about a post I had recently read, posted by a woman walking the Camino. She mentioned how she had insisted on carrying her pack, despite ongoing pain, because somehow, she felt she wasn’t a good pilgrim if she sent it ahead by taxi. She was unrelenting in holding on to her vision of what walking the Camino meant. Eventually, she gave up, sent the bag ahead, and realized that the lesson she needed to learn was how to let go of things. Like her vision of the perfect pilgrim, she realized she was hanging on to so much in her life.

At that point in the story Taryn piped up and said, “You mean she hung on like we are hanging on to watch the perfect sunset?” At that point the three of us burst into peals of laughter because here we had sat for over an hour on the hard ground, bugs biting our butts, the hurricane force winds sandblasting our faces – all because we needed to see the sunset in this most perfect of places! Except it wasn’t perfect at all – it was miserable!

So, we got up, still laughing, and headed home with only minutes to sunset, leaving behind our expectations and a pinkening sky, relishing in new friendship and the healing power of a good chuckle.

Nusa Dua

Today the skies opened, and the rain came – finally! I spoke with a woman online yesterday who told me she has been coming to Bali for 40 years, and the past two weeks were the most humid and unbearable she has ever experienced. I am glad I am not the only person who found it intolerable. With the rain the temperature has dropped significantly and so for the first time in 2.5 weeks I am feeling comfortable.

In my last blog I commented on how I might not have chosen to stay in Nusa Dua this week had I known it was gated and nothing but big resorts. It turns out however, that my hotel is not located inside the gates, so I could continue to wander the streets and experience everyday life in Bali…the thing is, every where I have been has basically been the same (notwithstanding certain geographic location differences): every street has bad sidewalks that are lined with massage shops, tattoo shops, restaurants, clothing shops selling sarongs, and booths selling activities and tours. Oh, and lots and lots of temples (but trust me when I say they all start looking alike after a while) and lots and lots of taxis.

Some might say that what I describe is not the “authentic” Bali – but what exactly does that mean? Servicing the tourism industry IS what most Balinese do. This IS their reality; therefore, it IS authentic. To want to slow or stop tourism, is to want to slow and stop jobs for locals. Before tourism Bali was incredibly poor. 

So, who are we to say tourism is bad for a place? And if we do, we do so selfishly, because we want sleepy, unspoiled, cheap places to go in the winter. (I myself have caught myself complaining about the good old days when one could travel to the tropics and buy a beer for a dollar.) The truth is, it is quite disingenuous of us to come as tourists to a place like Bali only to complain about how tourists have ruined the place – and yet, I have heard this constantly since my arrival here. 

I spoke with one of my drivers and asked him if the Balinese people are happy about all the tourism that has taken over the island, and he said emphatically, “Yes! Before tourism we were all very poor. Now we have jobs.”

So, saying Nusa Dua is not authentic is just as wrong, and I stand corrected. 

Nusa Dua is lovely - the perfect place to stay if you have some money and enjoy some luxury, clean beaches, and sidewalks that don't have holes in them large enough to swallow a man whole. There is a paved pathway beside the water that runs all along the length of Nusa Dua, and on the back side of the resorts are wide pathways full of greenery, flowers, crosswalks, and gorgeous traffic circles. It is great for walking and the beach is soft sand and gently entry to shallow, calm water.

As I have written in my book Around the World: A Journey Inward travel to the developing world has challenged me, built character, and has been a catalyst for change. It has taught me lessons I could not have learned in any other way – but one of the things I have learned is that I don't have to stay in crap places with no airconditioning to somehow gain the "authentic" experience. 

Experiencing the authentic Bali is about experiencing its people. And that means taking the time to speak with people outside your resort. It is about being open to learning and respecting their culture. For people who maybe have not travelled very much, Bali would be a great place to come.

For me however, it was a long, long, long way to come for a tropical island that looks pretty much like every other tropical island I have been on. Nothing I see surprises me anymore. 

For me, the world has shrunk. 

Is it possible there are no more lessons for me to learn? I doubt that. But maybe the lesson I need to learn most is how to stay home and be content. 

I have worked hard to build for myself a wonderful home and business in Oliver, and the truth is, I cannot wait to get back there.

Candi Dasa

Bali is quite small. 153 km east to west, and 112 km north to south. Most people stay in the very busy tourist regions on the southwest coast near the airport (Seminyak, Kuta, Legian) or in the centre of the island in Ubud. The rich and famous go to the high-end gated community of Nusa Dua to stay at the St. Regis and other fancy hotels. 

This week I was on the east coast in Candi Dasa. 

There are no real beaches here beyond small alcoves of coral and volcanic rock. And because of the time of year, there is no crystal blue turquoise water that Bali is famous for. Instead there is the steady roar of waves crashing onto the lava rock.

The region is a small village - or string of villages along the highway between the mountain and ocean. There are no high end, big resorts, and with the exception of a waterfall, a few temples, and an old village, there is not a lot going on. 

I chose to come here because I could use my time share weeks – though I can see that that was unnecessary as there are literally dozens of lovely boutique hotels here far nicer than where I am staying – all under $60 CAD a night. It is very laid back here, and while that might be great for someone coming here just for a week, it is a little too sleepy for me and with nowhere to really walk except along the busy highway and around the lovely lotus pond, I am finding myself a little (OK a lot) bored.

There are lots of things to do in Bali – but you could do them all in about 2 weeks and I have already seen everything in this area. And truthfully, if you have been to India as have I, you have seen more than your fair share of Hindu temples. I am kind of templed out. I do enjoy driving about seeing the countryside and visiting the many waterfalls – but again, if you are from Canada, you have seen waterfalls far grander than in Bali.

I hiked across a rice field one day and down about a thousand steps through the jungle to get to a waterfall, only to find there were so many mosquitos I barely took time to snap a photo before running up all those steps to get away from the little bastards.

I am terrified of mosquitos. I got Dengue fever in 2019 and had to be hospitalized. I was quite sick: my platelets dropped to 40 putting me at some risk of bleeding out, and my blood pressure dropped to 60 over 40 putting my organs at risk of not getting enough oxygen.

There are four dengue virus types, all of which are capable of inducing severe disease (dengue hemorrhagic fever /dengue shock syndrome). Once you have had Dengue – although you are immune to that virus, you can still get Dengue three more times, and each time is more dangerous than the first. 

There is a vaccination against Dengue however, it is not available in many countries, including Canada. That is because it has very high-risk factors – especially to people who have already had Dengue…so I am out of luck. So, when I wrote that I ran out of the jungle – I RAN – and by the time I got out of the jungle I was near heat stroked and thought Dengue might be the worse of two evils. I was close to passing out because I forgot to bring water and had not anticipated such a work out. As I hiked across the rice paddies I had visions of fainting and falling into the canals alongside the raised walkway where I would surely be eaten alive by water snakes, rats, and more mosquitos! (Note to self - always bring water!)

Walking here in Candi Dasa has been a bit of a challenge, even beyond the heat and humidity. Early morning or at night are the only reasonable times to avoid the heat – but nighttime is dangerous. Not because of crime – it is very safe here and I would have no trouble walking about at night – but the sidewalks are deathtraps!

Raised up about 2 feet from the road to accommodate a huge volume of rain which runs underneath the sidewalk, in a great many places, the sidewalks are caved in – leaving a gaping hole with a two-foot drop. Between the holes and the heaves caused by tree roots, walking at night on the poorly lit streets is just not possible.

One good thing about being on the east coast is that, unlike Ubud, it has been sunny every day. There have been a few small late afternoon showers but that it is. On the flip side, sunshine means higher heat. Yesterday was 34C with 80% humidity. Only the sea breeze and the pool made it bearable.

Tomorrow, I will head to Nusa Dua to hang out with the rich folks. I am using another time share week. I would not have chosen that area had I known it is homogenous and will not at all reflect an authentic side of Bali, but I am learning as I go and will make the best of it. I thought I might take myself out to dinner one night at the St. Regis, but when I looked at the menu, I thought better of it. With wine, a dinner for one will run $300 plus. I like good food, but that is obscene. I will have to settle for their high tea one afternoon. Rooms at the St. Regis start at $1800 a night but the high tea is cheaper than at the Fairmount hotels in Canada. So, I will put on my best dress, brush my hair for the first time in two weeks, and pretend to live like the other half.

Food Purgatory

I knew I was in trouble yesterday when I asked my driver to drop me at a grocery store and he took me to the Minimart. Mini marts are like 7-11 or Circle K. When I said to him, “No, I want to go to a grocery store,” he stared at me blankly. “You know, the shop you go to to buy your food.” He replied, “There are many warungs (restaurants) along the highway, I can stop at one.” I said, “No, no, I mean, I want to go to the place you buy the spices and rice to make your food.” Again, he stared at me blankly then replied, “People do not make their own food. We just buy food that is already cooked and take it home.”

Healthy, inexpensive food was abundant in Ubud, but here in Candi Dasa on the east coast of Bali, where it is far less crowded and touristy than the south, central, and southwest of Bali, there is a lack of great reatuarants and grocery stores. The east coast is the place to go if you like black sand beaches, good snorkeling, and diving. The chill vibe here is great, but there is nothing to do except leave here to go elsewhere on tour, or hang out in your resort. It is not really snorkling season as the monsoon season tradewinds keep the water rough, and I already saw most of the highlights in the area on the way here, so I suspect my week will be filled with nothing but trying to figure out where there might be some decent food.

So, I climbed out of the car and stepped into the minimart. I bought myself a dozen eggs, some coffee, a block of cheese (that tasted like a cross between Velveeta and rubber), and a tin of tuna, only to get to my room and find out my “kitchen” had no bowls, no pots, no stove, and a broken microwave. I was tempted to turn around and head back to Ubud. Instead, I boiled a couple eggs in the kettle.

Today I got up early as usual to get in my 2 hours of walking before it got too hot. It is hotter here on the coast than up in the Ubud region which is at a higher altitude. If it were not for the ocean breeze it would be intolerably hot, so I headed out at 7:00 to wander. There are not a lot of streets to stroll as the stretch of villas and hotels here are squished between the mountain behind and the ocean in front. I did find a few more warungs and I also came across a huge pond full of lotus flowers. And there, overlooking the pond, was a restaurant. A real reataurant, with a menu, and lattes! 

I came home happy.

By 10 each day I am so damned hot I literally cannot DO anything - not even read - as my brain seems to melt as soon as I get out of the pool. Needless to say, after two days here I have perfected the art of sleeping on my back while floating. (Must be all the fat in my butt that keeps me afloat!) Today though, because they were fumigating the hotel, I had to bug out (no pun intended) for a few hours. I knew walking about would be too hot, so I hopped on the back of a total stranger’s scooter (everybody here is a taxi driver!) and asked him to take me to a temple about a half hour from here where the altar sits in front of a large bat cave. I mean who doesn’t like bat caves??

It is rumoured, though not proven, that the cave connects via tunnel to another temple at the base of the Mount Agung – a volcano many miles from here. The volcanoes here are sacred - and although many people trek up Mt. Batur and Mt. Agung, I shall keep my distance. I have climbed a volcano in Nicauragua, so do not really feel the need to do it again, though the main reason is that I made the mistake of watching a Netflix documentary a few weeks ago on volcanoes. Bad idea. I also do not recommend watching documentries on plane crashes before travelling...though going down in flames in business class might be OK. Nope, on this trip I will limit my adventure to bat caves. 

Back at the bat cave...I watched a young Hindu family sit before the cave and worship with their three children. It was interesting to watch their rituals while the sound of the bats hummed in the background. While I sat there watching the worshippers and the bats, my tummy began to gurgle and I got a bad feeling about the satay I ate on the way there…oh dear, it was time to leave.

Food purgatory? This week could be foodie hell!

Ubud – The Medicine Town

Ubud has been a place of meditation and medicine for centuries, and the tradition of healing continues to this day. Ubud actually means medicine in Indonesian. A walk down any street will reveal yoga centres, spas, healers, counsellors, practitioners of Reiki, vibration healing and herbal medicine. The many small restaurants on every street showcase menus of whole foods, plant based delicacies, and healthy choices. It is no wonder why people come here to heal.

Ubud is also a bustling city full of temples, markets, art galleries, and oh so many shops. I particularly love the wood carving shops full of wood bowls, spoons, and plates. Wood carving is a big part of Balinese culture and religion.

Balinese wood carvings are made from hard woods with a coarse grain such as teak, chempaka wood and sandalwood using simple tools like the machete. It is incredible to watch the detailed figures of gods and demons emerge.

The Balinese people are deeply religious – Hindus – and they worship many different “gods.” Balinese carving is an ancient art that is steeped in traditions, often mixing magic with skill. Even the tree from which carvings are made is felled according to tradition—with a blessing ceremony preceding cutting.

As I strolled down the skinny side streets of Ubud, every house and temple is protected by carvings – large animals or idols designed to keep away evil spirits. The intersections have statues, and the forests have statues. It is an art lovers delight to see the craftsmanship literally everywhere!

I am visiting Ubud in the monsoon season. Each day is predictable: warm and sunny in the morning, hot and humid mid-day until the rain starts. Then it cools down significantly. It’s perfect really, allowing you to walk about in the morning, lay by the pool in the afternoon, and head out again in the early evening. Visiting now also allows me to avoid the huge crowds of tourists and traffic in the high season.

The first few days here in the medicine city was to gauge the weather and mosquito situation – both of which are fine – to help me decide if I should come back for a longer stay, and I absolutely plan on returning to Ubud for at least another week.

In the past three days I have visited the monkey sanctuary, where I enjoyed the trees and statues more than the monkies, and also hiked to the Ridge Walk made famous by Julia Roberts in the movie Eat Pray Love. I went to an art gallery too. Mostly, I walked the streets. Street strolling was my favourite. They are quiet and full of the scent of lotus blossom and incence - a welcome respite from the bustle of the main streets.

Today I will head out with a private driver to see all the sights in the vicinity that I could not walk to. I am on my way to Cadi Dasa where I will stay at a resort on the ocean. Each time I change locations I will hire a driver for the day and see all the area sights between the two locations. It kills two birds with one stone and saves money of course. A driver here is relatively inexpensive: I am paying 700,000 IDR for 10 hours. That is about $7 CAD an hour. Well worth it to have an English-speaking driver to explain what I am seeing. He will pick me up at 9am and we will head north to walk the rice terraces. Then we will head to a waterfall for a short hike, then off to an ancient village where people still live as they did centuries ago. We will also go to Amed, so I can scout a homestay to stay in for a week later next month.

Selamat tinggal.

Arrived at Last!

Eight thousand five hundred and seventy-eight miles (13,790 kilometers) and 39 hours is how long it took me to get to Bali.

That may sound horrific, and be enough to scare many away from long haul travel, but over the years I have got this travel thing down to an art. I know how to pack light, I wear my compression socks, and I know where the best airline lounges are, so the experience was more than tolerable: I woke up this morning, my first day in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia feeling rested  (no jet lag), with only the need for a decent cup of coffee which the instant coffee provided in the hotel did not satisfy.

It helped that I was flying business class, purchased with Aeroplan points. This was my first experience flying in business, and I have to say, being able to lay flat with a down comforter and my own pillow, wearing the Jason Wo designer pajamas EVA Air gave me, made all the difference to how I felt on arrival. The business class bathroom had L’Occitane amenities, (a luxury French skin care company) and the pouch of goodies they gave me included more products – all designed to give me a luxury experience. I ate exceptional food, drank quality aged Champagne, and drank perfectly paired wines with the three-course meal served on a large pull up table which they covered with a white tablecloth! I mostly appreciated the huge amount of space and privacy I had.

Going back to economy for long flights will never happen again.

Today, after I find myself a decent cup of coffee, I will walk about the city and get my bearings. I am only here for 3 days to look at some villas and decide if I want to come back here for a longer stay. I am in Bali for 8 weeks but have only booked accommodations up until January 20^th. This will allow me some time to explore the island to see where (or IF) I want to hang out for the other 5 weeks. I might leave the country for awhile and go to Loas. Having travelled all this way, and with limited points left to buy more business class flights to this side of the globe, it seems prudent to check out some more countries while I am in the region.

I have been to Thailand twice, and Vietnam twice, and India twice, so that leaves Singapore, Cambodia, Malaysia, Loas, Myanmar and Brunei. Accommodations in Singapore are too expensive for me, I don’t really want to go to Brunei – the world’s least travelled to place, as I have been to Bahrain and Dubai and don’t really need to see another grotesquely rich sultanate, and in Brunei they put homosexuals to death. I am not interested in giving them my limited travel dollars. That leaves Malaysia, Loas and Myanmar. Myanmar is not a stable place right now, with ethnic groups fighting the military run government – so I am thinking that is not the best place…

Malaysia is close, is an ecotourism hotspot, and the country has 20% of the world's animal species and four UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Also, I can use my travel club weeks there which helps keep things inexpensive for me. On the other hand, Loas is inexpensive and is known for its beautiful geography.

Tough choice.

For now, I will stay in the moment, as my immediate concern is caffeine!

Bear Spray and Bad Toes

About an hour and a half into my hike today my left toes started to hurt.

At first it was just a ping of pain, but before long I was limping badly and had to make the strategic decision to find my way down the mountain to the highway and try hobbling my way up the highway back to the trailhead where my car was parked several miles up the road. That way, if I got to the point where I could not walk at all, at least I could flag down a car and hitch a ride.

As I hobbled along the famous scenic byway (Hwy 101), looking like a vagabond, I took in the endless expanse of blue and white. The sun was shining so bright in the azure sky, and it felt so good on my face.

The roar of the waves beside me was almost deafening. I imagined I was Bill Bryson on the Appalachian Trail – or Reese Witherspoon in the movie Wild – walking alone from Mexico to Canada. I always find these sorts of stories inspiring, and I have often contemplated walking the Camino del Santiago.

But it is days like this that hold me back.

I worry I will get halfway between two villages in remote Portugal only to have my chronic tendonitis flare up and leave me stranded alone in the wilderness. But the truth is, the Camino is full of people just like me, and you are never alone.

It is kind of like my life: I am by myself most of the time, but not really alone. All around me are people, friends, customers, children, and even strangers. I am not lonely. Alone does not need to be a negative. Alone is not a disability. 

Alone is liberating. 

I am strong and smart and can figure out whatever it is I need to figure out. I may not always be able to run, but I can hobble.

I belong to a Facebook group called SOLO Women Travellers Over 50. There are over 12,000 members. Some are seasoned travellers like me, others are there just reading others’ stories, trying to get the courage to see the world on their own.

I wonder why so many women are afraid to travel alone? Men travel alone all the time. Why are women willing to believe that they are somehow less capable than men? Why do women relinquish their autonomy, deny their strength, and doubt their capacity? 

Who convinced them they couldn’t do it?

Oh yeah, I remember, society convinced them. Despite it being 2023, our society continues to treat women like they are less than men. In relationships it is a fact that women do most of the housework and most of the childcare, despite women working the same number of hours outside of the home as their husbands. And in the workplace, women are paid less than men for the same job. 

Frankly, it makes me sick. As Beale said in the iconic 1976 film, Network, "I am mad as hell, and I am not going to take this anymore!" 

If we women don't believe we are equal, how will we ever convince men we are equal (and yeah, yeah, I get that my upper body strength is less than a man's and I don't have a penis).

So, if you are afraid to travel alone – believe me when I say travelling alone is AMAZING!

When I travel alone, I can wake up when I want to, eat when I want to, and go where I want to. I stay somewhere as long as I want to, leave after 2 minutes if I want to, or never leave the hotel if I want to. I can go to bed at 6pm if I want to, wake up at 3 am if I want to, snore, bathe, and poop when I want to. I don’t have to wait for anyone, don’t have to share the bathroom, and don’t have to negotiate the day’s agenda. And best of all I don’t have to let other people’s fears limit what I do.

Someone recently asked me, aren’t you afraid to hike alone? And the answer is yes. I think about bears a lot. I carry a bear horn, and bear spray and I sing a lot on the trails. But I do not let my fear stop me – because the truth is, human-bear incidents are rare in Oregon. Black bear populations number between 25,000 to 30,000 statewide but there have only been five reported incidents in the state since 1988, none of them fatal, so, it is kind of dumb to worry about bears. I have a better chance of dying on the highway driving to the trailhead.

That’s the thing about fear: it is not always rational. And you can choose to let your irrational brain keep you from enjoying life to the fullest, or you can set aside your fear, and live!

That is not to say I am careless. I do research, I plan, and I am prepared. I always text someone back home where I am going each morning. I carry a pack with water and food in case I get lost. I take a photo of the trail map with me in case I lose internet service (which is all the time on the Oregon coast), and I know where the tsunami evacuation routes are. And when I am travelling alone, I do not go out at night. 

Lots of people do go out at night, and that is their choice of course, but I generally prefer to stay home, cook a nice meal, enjoy a glass of wine, and binge watch Grey’s Anatomy.

Yesterday I watched 10 episodes. Yup, ten! From 3 pm when I got home from hiking, until midnight… and that is something that would NEVER HAPPEN if I were not travelling alone!

Hmmm, it is possible my irrational brain was in control yesterday…