Driving through the Cultural Center, Ubad was lovely last evening, until we got to our creepy turn-off to our deserted Hideaway.
We got the heck out of there first thing, of course, after our tasty (always included) breakfast of the usual which is: a pile of ripened meticulously cut fruits (pineapple, papaya, watermelon etc.) with lime, an egg or two, toast or banana pancake with some very rich delicious Balinese coffee (sometimes they even serve it with sweetened condensed milk!). Morgan instantly sucks up a banana milk shake with every meal and loves the Indonesian pad Thai-type dishes. The prawns cooked with special sweet soy sauce have been my favorite.
We stopped to play with the rescued gentle giants, the Sumatran Elephants in what is a nice but somewhat touristy park. This time, happily being the only ones there, we were able to feed and pet them and one even placed a ring of flowers around my neck. It was nice to know our entrance fee helped to keep them well, as they had a lot of space a big bathing pool to bathe in and appeared very well fed and cared for.
The views on the roads heading North towards the big Volcano Batur were wonderful. We kept driving with ohhs and ahhs for little switchbacks through hanging jungle vines and little villages lined with farms. Nearing the top we stopped at a tidy fruit stand on a steep road where big trucks were braking hard to get down. A kind village woman opened or peeled several fruits for us we have never seen before. We slurped up several samples most were sweet and delicious. One that looked like an orange was filled with what looked like little sweet clear bags of seeds. It was our favorite. One was like a nut, but had a pretty pink outer shell. The experience changed when a dog started barking at the jungle bushes to the side and an old mean-looking man finally came out. He glared heavily and suspiciously at us. The dog kept barking at him. When we turned to leave our bike was covered with flies. We left, lifting his curse. This was the beginning of our uncomfortable feelings about the area.
Arriving at the top we were greeted by several security posers and “polici” who extracted a toll to view the lake and Volcano. We were hustled harsher than usual to "stay at my hotel," "eat here" etc. We drove up the road and feeling threatened decided to have a quick lunch to appease the tourist Cartel who seemed like they were following us. The lunch was an overpriced buffet of soggy, sick food, even the coffee was wrong. We left amid a swarm of very pushy hawkers, riding down the Mountain just as fast as we could go, Morgan saying "let's never come here again"!!
Both of us could breath again after we passed the turn off the most important temple in Bali, Besakih at the foot of the Volcano. In Bali, it is said, the center of the Hindu Universe collides at the center of Batur Volcano. We must have been on the 'evil' side today. The villages seem to vary in this feeling for us too. One village will be unbelievable warm and friendly as we slowly ride through it, another equally hostile and suspicious about us.
A full and long day of driving we rode into Candidasa the beach town, at sunset.
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