Posts Tagged With: Asia

Those Who Find You: A Tribute

Ah, Christmastime. Although we were in Bali well before Christmas, there were signs of it popping up here and there: a fake tree in the local Hardy’s Supermarket/Mall, a smattering of wreaths and lights adorning stalls. At the (many) airports heading home, trees and baubles surrounded every shop entrance. Flying into our home airport was a bit surreal – Canadians take this North Pole stuff seriously.

When we finally turned into our own little dead-end street, we saw that it had exploded with lights (we had some work to do to catch up). It was a bit weird; so familiar but we weren’t quite ready to embrace it. Yes, we knew it was coming, but when you’re frolicking around in a land of blazing sun and sand, you really don’t think much about it.

So I can’t say I’m deep into the Christmas spirit this year. That said, I do know what I am thankful for: families of all varieties.

There’s no question that I’m grateful for the family I was born into – as wacky as it is. I love them very much and appreciated every day I have with them, but here I’m referring the Balinese family we’ve adopted (or perhaps more correctly, they’ve adopted us).

We’ve been to Bali quite a few times now (five for me; six for Cam), and when you go back to the same place enough times, you’re bound to make connections – wherever you’re from, whomever you are.

Tandjung Sari at twilight. Just go.

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I’ve mentioned before how welcoming the Balinese are – and the Wawo-Runtu family, who founded and still run the sublime Tandjung Sari hotel on an amazing property in Sanur – is no exception. They’re a large bunch – a blended family extraordinare. (We kid them about being a Balinese Brady Bunch.) They’ve all received us with genuine curiosity, open arms, and two or three kisses on the cheek. This reception is a big part of the reason we keep coming back.

Yes, Bali is our home away from home, the place we think about often and fantasize about in the cold, dark, rainy days of a Canadian winter. We crave its colourful, mystifying chaos. It’s where we become accustomed to sweating constantly, needing three showers a day, and epic humidity.

After a breath of frangipani and incense, feeling the sun on my face, hearing the constant swish-shish of sweeping, the ‘ting’ of a bike bell along the boardwalk, stepping over the ubiquitous sidewalk offerings, almost bumping into mini-shrines and dodging stray dogs and cats – it’s like coming home. Actually, that is the coming home.

Here are two people who have made it so for us.

Me and Avi, with duelling cameras.

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Avi is general manager of Tandjung Sari; he’s the first person from the family that we met. He’s married to Wita, who’s father, Wija Wawo-Runtu, started the hotel. They are our age, and from there the similarities are endless (such as Cam and Wita having a birthday within one day of each other).

Me between two Sagittarians: pre-birthday dinner drinks at the fancy Legian on Seminyak Beach.

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Apparently we’re not the only ones who wish we were back there; as much of their job involves entertaining guests, both Avi & Wita relish the chance to hang out with people more ‘their age’. Our relationship with these guys has grown since the beginning; each time we go back we learn new things about ourselves, share funny family stories, indulge in our love for good food and even better company – such as good friends do.

Cam & Wita, toasting to their birthdays. Yes, Cam’s drink is wrapped in a bag.

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Cam & Avi: two great minds (and they have fun haggling over the bill)!

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Me & Wita goofing around at TS.

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I have fond memories of Wita coming down to join us every twilight at our bungalow’s porch for a couple of drinks when Avi was working late: the two of us shrieking as we dodged swooping bats; playing Bowie on the stereo; listening to Wita’s tales of living abroad and her brushes with famous people.

And then there’s us tucking into an enormous plate of kambing kare nasi goreng (lamb curry), homemade dinners at Tatie’s (Wita’s mom) or parties at one of her half-sister’s breathtaking open-air pavilion-style houses. And jazz on the beach, where Avi had the kitchen and the outdoor barbecue time our dinners perfectly. The time when Wita had extra bottles of water delivered to our bungalow when I was sick. It’s both of them going out of their way to make our stay as comfortable, happy and special as possible. Well, like family.

A Balinese tree ornament.

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For me, this Christmas is not about presents, or lights, or the big turkey dinner. It’s about family; it’s about remembering and appreciating your loved ones. There’s no denying the spirit of family this time of year brings, be it good or bad. For us – both near and abroad – it’s good.

Time to say goodbye – we’re smiling through our tears.

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Here’s to second families… ’til we meet again.

– S

Categories: Adventure, Bali, Beach, Dining, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Baliance: The Beginning

Well, we’re back in… you’ll never guess… Bali. Yup, it’s tradition that every two years we just have to get on a plane, fly biz or first for basically an entire day, and skip a day crossing the international dateline while we’re at it. The whole production is a tiring hassle, but it’s always worth taking a bit of pain for the ultimate Bali gain.

We started this Balinese adventure in an area near Ubud proper called Penestanan. If you want to tuck yourself away in the jungle and rice fields, this is the place to do it. Here are a few vignettes from our time there…

Please tell me we didn’t just do what I think we did

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Once upon a time there was a grand villa in the middle of the Balinese jungle. And it had many rooms. And with those many rooms came many doors and keys and locks in both analog and digital flavours. There were two main doors – one for the front gate that led to the road to other villas, spas, and restaurants admist the jungle – and the other for the back that led to the walking path to the main street.

And so it is our first night, which after travelling for 20+ hours left us weary and a bit slow-witted. We decide to go to the market to get susu (milk) for coffee, Bir Bintang and other vacation necessities. We walk out the back gate, and I firmly shut it, only to discover shortly after that it is now locked, and whatever keys we have can’t open it. It’s starting to get dark, there’s no lights and we can’t see any way around the house other than to take a long alternative route… which we don’t really have a grip on yet. I look at Cam and say, deliriously, you mean we’ve been here for five minutes and we’ve already locked ourselves out of the villa?!?

I thought I was going to cry. But, ever the problem-solver, Cam MacGyvered the situation using a temporary bank card to finesse the lock bolt. It opened in about two seconds. And we never fully closed that door again.

After all that, we forgot the susu. But my first taste of kopi Bali the next morning was nothing less than heavenly, milk or no.

Ol’ Growly on the path (no, not Cam)
That’s our place in the background of the picture below.

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You could say it was a wee bit big for us, but it was damn private, which was the principle goal. This place was so remote that we had to walk down a winding, partly hilly, cracked and narrow concrete path, complete with very steep steps from the main road. No motorized vehicles allowed. Thus, after making a few wrong twists and turns – the best being pitch black and sans torch, we would arrive at our palace.

One day we headed out on said path to get provisions at the Bintang Market, only to find a ‘guard’ dog waiting in the middle of the path, looking super-scruffy and growly (upon closer inspection, he was just old and cranky and didn’t want to move). Of course as soon as we got close, he started barking and growling. Cam, born to face fear it seems, just kept on walking and reluctantly Ol’ Growly moved out of the way. We made friends later when I threw him and a canine friend doggy treats out the villa window.

Have stick, will herd 

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While up on the rooftop terrace of Rumah Cahaya, Cam spotted this ~4-foot tall ibu (Indonesian for mother or elder female) herding ducks through the rice fields, with the intention (we think) of getting them to eat all of the bugs. Small or no, ibu could surely wield a mean stick.

More Ibu – from field to market
Cam’s been taking some serious language lessons, and enjoys practicing with the locals. One time while on a provisional trip to the Bintang Market for Bir Bintang – naturally – he was in the checkout line behind an elderly ibu who seemed to regard his bottles of beer with some disapproval. That is until Cam said to her “untuk makan malam” (“for dinner”). Ol’ ibu went from seriously serious to highly amused. She thought it so funny that she repeated it to her husband beside her. It really is the small victories.

Martinis but no Internet? Perfect.
There’s a restaurant in Penestanan which happens to have the best martinis – by my opinion – in all of Bali. And we’ve been to a lot of swanky places. So, naturally, we happened to find ourselves there. It’s called Element and it’s waaaay tucked away in a small side street. The martinis come in two ways: strong or really strong. This place is so good that we’re actually thinking about making the one-hour trek back up there from Sanur. Plus, you’re forced to talk to your companions after 5 pm. Seriously?

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It’s a small world, after all
Before we even arrived, we quickly learned how small of a town Ubud is. Turns out that the house manager for Rumah Cahaya, Juli, is none other than the brother of the ibu whose family manages the other house we stayed in – Rumah Cinta – two years ago. In fact, we went to this cat’s wedding in 2012 – pictured below with me and bride Koming.

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Note the before and after pics of Juli – quite a difference! (No makeup for instance…)

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Pictured above: Bapak (Indonesian for father – also used for an elder male) – who carried my 50 lb suitcase on his bony shoulder all along the path and down aforementioned wicked steps – Juli and me the morning we left Penestanan. BTW, that’s Ol’ Growly in the background.

One of the coolest house features… EVER
The whole time we stayed at Rumah Cahaya, we were wondering how to access the basement suite. We could see the door from the outside, but had no idea how to get to it from inside. That is, until the owner Bruce showed us a secret door behind the bookshelf, which led to a whole other room, bathroom, bar, and theatre.

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The space between the shelves is the opening to the secret room below. Spooky!

Apparently this is where Bruce lived when the rest of the place was being built. I was super-impressed. How English gothic is that? Noted for our future mansion.

Stay tuned for my next post – a remote island called Gili Trawangan off the east coast of Bali.

– S

Categories: Adventure, Bali, Pool, Travel, wedding | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Best Travel Moments of 2012

2012 challenged me. This year, I ‘let go’.

I left my old job of almost ten years and got a new and exciting placement three months later. Meanwhile, our 15-year-old cat passed away. Thing is: we ‘rented’ a cat shortly thereafter, which turned into a full-on adoption – that is, she adopted us.

And of course, we traveled. It was a bit different this year: we traded our usual summertime island jaunts for a longer stay in Asia, and I also traveled for work, which I hadn’t done for ages. Nonetheless, it was still varied, fun, crazy and challenging. But mostly fun. Of course, when it comes to the way we travel, I would expect nothing less. So here it is: my favourite travel moments from 2012.

February – Celebrating my birthday in Sayulita, Mexico.
Nothing beats the February blues and turning another year older than soaking up the sun on a beach – any beach, really. As long as it’s warm. Here I am sipping a ‘coco loco’ in Sayulita. Moments later, the Candyman appeared with his huge wheelbarrow stacked to the gills with – you guessed it – candy. I even got my very own spectacular sunset. It really was the perfect day.

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April – San Jose to see Coldplay – twice!
We went to see one of our fave bands twice in one of our favourite places – California. Although it was my first time in San Jose, I was pleasantly surprised by all the city had to offer – namely pretty, tree-lined streets, the ridiculously expensive Santana Row, incredible food, and any kind of tequila you can possibly imagine. Oh, and Coldplay was pretty damn awesome, too. First night was up in the stands, but close to the stage; the second night was even closer – four rows out on the floor.

First Night: Chris Martin up-close with bassist Guy Berryman.

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Second night view from fourth row floor. See if you can spot Chris Martin in all that confetti!

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September – Maple Ridge.
I know I said in a previous post that I didn’t consider heading to the mainland Vancouver – namely Maple Ridge – as really traveling. What the hell was I thinking? This is as much as traveling as it gets – a 40-minute drive to the ferry, a 1.5 hour ferry ride, followed by a 1.5 hour drive to MR – and this isn’t counting side-trips to Starbucks (one must fuel up for such a journey), or my sis Karen’s fave clothing store Sweet Orange. However arduous the journey, trips to MR always include fun and relaxation in the form of martinis, junk food, wine, hanging with the kids, playing with their cat, watching cheesy movies, and of course more wine. This trip in particular was to celebrate my bro-in-law’s birthday, complete with a cocktail party and some of their best – and wackiest – friends. Simply put, I absolutely loved it – almost as much as I love them.

Me, sister Karen, and her daughter Emma (the awesome Emu).

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October – Las Vegas.
Although Metric at the House of Blues was amazing, probably the biggest highlight of this trip was our hotel room. For more pics and a detailed description, check out my first post on this epic trip. The room was beyond luxurious; by far the best upgrade I’ve ever received. For the first time in our traveling lives, we actually clocked some quality time in the hotel room. Who could blame us?

A shot from our conference room (seriously) looking out to the full-on living room suite. 

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October – NYC.
Less than a week before Hurricane Sandy, I went to NYC on business for a social media conference. Little did I know the place would be almost torn to shreds in a matter of days. Happily oblivious to that fact, I wandered the (very) crowded streets of Manhattan, taking in every smell, sound and funny catcall (at one point I was mistaken for Jennifer Aniston – to my delight the guy yelled it to the passing crowd). Additional favourite moments were spotting Snopp Dogg (twice), hugging Cookie Monster in Times Square, wandering beautiful Bryant Park and swilling double martinis in Hell’s Kitchen. (For the record, the Empire State Building is an absolute rip-off – v. expensive for a so-so experience. I’ve heard a night visit is far better.)

Fall on the streets of New York City.

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Downtown view from Empire State Building.

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November – Bali.
Ok, I’ll admit it, I’m addicted to traveling first class. Especially when going halfway around the world, as we do to Bali. Then there was Ubud, a town up in Bali’s rice fields. This picture was taken at by far my favourite moment – the rain pouring down and me sheltered on the deck with everything I needed: a beer, a good book, and something amazing to gaze out on.

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I couldn’t get enough of Bali’s bright, fragrant flowers and intricate woodwork. Also, I really loved the fact that I never once had to turn the hot water on for an entire three weeks.

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December – back to Maple Ridge.
With yet another few weeks off of work for the holidays (yes, it’s true – please don’t cry), I took the opportunity to spend some quality time at my sis’ again in MR for a few days before the Christmas craziness. It was nothing short of awesome. We did a lot of the aforementioned, with the addition of watching classic Christmas movies, admiring of tree ornaments, and actual buying at Sweet Orange (I acquired a little Xmas present to me – ok, I may have a slight addiction to clothes), plus a few socials, including a “Death Party”. This took place, fittingly, on December 21, which you’ll recall was to be our last day on Earth. It was actually a friend’s birthday, with the added cool twist of a death theme. Dress code was anything black (she wore her wedding dress spray-painted black). Along with a few questionable and amusing characters, there was a humongous tray of THE most amazing mac and cheese, a coffin filled with beer, rented slushy machines – one filled with bellini mix, the other lime and vodka – and a tarot card reader. A party the next day boasted 40 adults and 40 kids, a zillion appys, an open bar and even an official wine tasting. I was in heaven.

Me, my niece Alex, and their cat Tuna. Note the horrified expression on the poor kitty’s face.

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I’m sure 2013’s jaunts around the globe will be nothing short of memorable. Autumn in Italy, anyone?

– S

Categories: Bali, Beach, British Columbia, California, Glamorous, Mexico, Shopping, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Sanur: Home and Away

Well, it’s been a while now since we returned from our favourite place in the world (that would be Bali, for those of you not paying attention) – and let’s just say it’s a bit of an adjustment. But I don’t want to waste your precious reading time lamenting about being back in chilly Canada. This is a postcard about our home-away-from-home: sleepy Sanur.

After dusty, scorching Seminyak and the serene lushness of Ubud, we departed for the golden sands of the southeast coast. Sanur is where we first experienced the magic of Bali, where we discovered a peaceful bungalow-style hotel on the beach, where we made lifelong friends and are always treated like family. With fond memories in tow, we were anxious to get there and start creating new ones.

Once we turned off the main street (Danau Tramblingan) and into the Tandjung Sari driveway, I exhaled deeply. It’s hard to describe the feeling I get when I enter these grounds. It’s like I’ve closed the door on an all-too-busy, crazy, rushed world, retreating into a hidden paradise. The long, narrow, two-laned driveway is lined with palms in the middle and high hedges on either side, only hinting at the bungalows behind it. It’s as if I’ve entered a home in a village, going back into another quiet, simpler time. It’s a feeling of arriving at a place unlike anywhere I’ve been before; someplace safe, warm and welcoming.

As usual, we were greeted warmly by the staff in the receiving area: a huge, open-air pavilion that was once part of a Balinese royal house. Three ceremonial beats on a large gong announced our arrival, and we were given cold towels by a fresh-faced Balinese woman. Happily signing in, we started what was to be a two-week-long reunion with all our old friends and the Tandjung Sari family. Indeed, several times a day we were welcomed with a chorus of exclamations, handshaking, kissing on each cheek (often three times), and lots of Apa kabar (what’s the news?). To which we’d reply: baik, baik (very good – especially since we were there).

The Tandjung Sari beachfront at twilight.

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We had booked one of the new garden bungalows (they hadn’t built new ones since the ’90s, so this was pretty special). Bright and spacious, the bungalow boasted beautifully blue tiled floors depicting Balinese themes of animals and birds; industrial-strength air conditioning; a welcome bowl of island fruit adorned with frangipani; a separate room with wash area complete with skylights; and yes… the classic outdoor shower. This time we even got an outdoor bathtub – an essential tool for the cooling-down process, especially after scorching beach days, and yes, our dreaded morning runs along the boardwalk. (This we endeavoured – and succeeded – to do every morning, despite any late activities the night before. It was really the only sane time to do it – that is, if you didn’t want to faint of heat stroke while dodging bikes, scooters, sketchy gangs and, God forbid, the razor-sharp women hawkers who hang around outside the Circle K, just waiting for the next victim to drag down a crowded and confusing alley of shops.)

Outdoor bathtub – Cam’s favourite place to cool off while reading the latest Jack Reacher and sipping a cold Bir Bintang.

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Shortly after our arrival, I really began to relax. Translation: lots of spa treatments. Fresh fruit peel facial and rose petal face masks, a dual manicure and pedicure (to the tune of $15 Cdn – absurdly cheap compared to the $70 – before tax and tip – jobby I had at home).

And then there was the massage. Not just an ordinary one – it was a Javanese massage. Picture a 4-foot-ish Javanese ibu knocking on your bungalow door with just a sarong and some oil. You dress down to your skivvies, lie on your bed and proceed to get worked over by her magic fingers both back and front. Modesty goes out the window as she transforms your entire body into a lump of jelly and goodness. Her touch is utterly perfect: not too gentle that you can’t feel anything, but not too strong that it starts to get stressful. Perfect for us picky North Americans. Again, absurdly cheap: $20. For an hour and a half. ‘Nuff said.

Then there was the fresh fruit every morning at breakfast: pineapple, papaya, watermelon, even passionfruit or banana juice if you so desired. Not to mention perfectly-baked buttermilk biscuits and Tandjung Sari’s famous croissants: fresh from the oven, with a rewarding puff of steam when you break one open. Everyone swears they are better than what you find in Paris, and we can’t disagree.

Shar on bike along Sanur’s beach boardwalk.

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Our resident family of ginger kucings.

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Our third and last week in Bali – what we referred to as our “bonus week” – was spent pretty much planted on the beach, where our biggest decision of the day (aside from what to have for lunch or dinner), was if we should go for a swim in the pool or float on our backs in the 27 degree Indian Ocean.

However, we did manage a day trip to east Bali – to a series of pretty, small fishing villages lining the coast and stemming south from the town of Amed – satisfied our snorkelling urge. The quality was outstanding, with the best part not having to rent a boat to get to the reef. All we did was park on the road, cut through the grounds of an obscure homestay on the beach, step out onto the black sand and put our flippers in the water. A push off the rock and we were transported to a world of angel and Nemo fish, bright blue coral, sea turtles and eels. We let the current take us deeper into the relatively garbage-free water (a treat compared to, say, what we experienced in Nusa Dua) – swimming through warm, cool, and then almost too hot patches – down to a sunken Japanese shipwreck (there are doubts about its provenance, but it was cool nonetheless). We emerged two hours later, and with salt water crust in our hair and cracked lips, rinsed off underneath a rustic communal shower before wolfing down our picnic lunch. Hours later I felt the ill-effects of the classic too-long-in-the-water-without-protection nasty burn, but it was sooooo worth it.

A young woman dances the traditional Balinese legong

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After the ‘cool’ mountain air of Ubud (28 degrees as opposed to 32 – it makes a difference, believe me) we were once again cozily-wrapped in the hot and humid, even with the ocean breeze. But the warmth of the island doesn’t just come from the elements. It’s in the people, too: their gentle and welcoming nature, their stunning smiles, their genuine interest. During our time in Sanur, a series of invites ensued: drink gatherings, birthday outings (including Cam’s), legong dance performances, art exhibitions, dinners at our friend’s house… so much that we barely had a night to ourselves during our whole two-week stay.

But that’s what I love so much about the Balinese: they are eager to include you and have you take part in their customs (and to practice their English while they’re at it). Just take the wedding we went to in Ubud. It’s just what they do, who they are. And that’s what keeps us coming back.

The full moon and me.

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– S

Categories: Adventure, Bali, Beach, Dining, Glamorous, Pool, Shopping, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ubud: Serenity Now

Tucked into the Balinese highlands, in the midst of long and lush flora, gently-flowing rivers, and cooling skies, lies Ubud, Bali’s cultural capital. On previous trips to Bali, we’ve only gone to Ubud on day trips perusing silver, batik and wood carving shops while baking in the afternoon heat, stopping to have a kopi es (iced coffee) until we’d gathered enough energy to venture out again. We’d have a grand old time at the monkey forest, or partake in a popular locals’ pastime, such as dining at Ibu Oka’s (for more detail on that, check out one of my previous posts: The Freaky, The Fresh, and the Fabulous).

But listening to other travellers describe how peaceful, even magical, it is to actually stay in and around Ubud made us think differently for this trip. There were stories of incredibly private villas with glorious pools set in the middle of lush rice fields, with a myriad of spa resorts and retreats steps away, where you could rejuvenate, meditate and no-doubt exfoliate yourself to a temporary Nirvana. Many people swear Ubud is the ‘real’ Bali, so we thought we’d give it a try.

We arrived via transport from Seminyak, about an hour away. Our destination was a villa in the outskirts of Ubud proper, in an area called Penestanan. Once our driver figured out how to find our rather elusive and hidden villa, it was crazy to think we could actually have missed it. I took one look at the entrance’s 100 or so steep (and I mean steep) stone stairs and said to Cam, “How are we going to get our suitcases up there?” He pointed to the two frail-looking Balinese women who greeted us on the street and said, “That’s how.” OK – I had to see this.

Without hesitation, each woman took a 50-pound suitcase of ours and placed them ever so gently on their heads. And up the stairs they went. And up. And up some more. By the halfway point, I was panting from just carrying my beach bag. Watching these women, I was respectfully humbled. Who needs bootcamp, anyway?

Pic of our entrance stairs sans incredibly strong ladies (but an equally capable Cam).

The villa is called Rumah Cinta, which translates to the house made out of love. It was humongous – built to contain at least a couple of families. In fact, they closed off half of the house so the two of us occupied the newer half.  The place had all the right things: a large pool and an open-air, stone-built shower (the greatest thing EVER) for starters. It was simply an awe-inspiring place, somehow mystic, comprised of beautiful traditional Balinese architecture as shown in the pic below, which just happened to be above an alcove in our gardens:

(There were so many large and small touches like this that every day we seemed to discover a new gem or another – including many shrines on the property, which received daily offerings.)

Shortly after we settled in, it started raining unlike anything I’ve ever seen or heard. Not the typical long, misty, all-day affairs we get at home. No, it was one of those tropical rainstorms that give little warning and a lot of result: big, hard drops that render you completely drenched almost immediately, umbrella or no.

Our timing was spectacular: getting caught right in the middle as we were walking back from the supermarket. It was so ridiculously loud and intense that we  laughed most of the way… until the aforementioned 100 steps, where we slopped and slipped as we juggled bags and umbrellas all the way up. Despite this, it was a lovely respite from the from dusty, scorching streets of Seminyak. Once somewhat dry, we tucked in for a night of watching the rain from our balcony, relaxing, reading, and drinking Bali Hai beer. We finally succumbed to a long, deep sleep to the tune of a VERY loud singer – what we originally thought was a frog and then later learned it was actually a large gecko – and dreamt of green phosphorescent fireflies (which we really did see – very cool).

View of our villa grounds from the master bedroom balcony during a rainstorm.

We woke up early that first morning and breakfasted at Ibu Putu’s warung, a local’s restaurant just down the path. Ketut, the man whose family manages the villa, met us there to help us prepare for our first-ever Balinese wedding. He had invited us to his brother-in-law’s wedding about five minutes after we arrived. Although we were initially taken somewhat aback, we quickly learned that it’s considered a bit sophisticated to have foreigners at your wedding, especially as we were in the (relative) Balinese sticks. Whatever the case, we were only too happy to oblige to attend as very pale ornaments. Ketut dressed us in layers of fancy sarongs and sashes – required for entering holy sites and temples – and off we went with another couple hailing from – weirdly enough – Edmonton, Alberta.

Ketut led the way through the village, and once at the family compound, we were greeted warmly by the betrothed couple, who then promptly disappeared to adorn themselves in elaborate dress and makeup.

Then we proceeded to wait. And wait. Two hours, many cups of sweet tea, spicy satay, rambutan (a favourite of Cam’s) and several suspicious-looking jellies later, the young couple emerged, snapping us both out of our near-comatose state. The bride and groom then led a procession through the streets to her family’s home for more visiting and eating. As the actual ceremony was not for another several hours, we decided to bow out at that point.

Me with the bride and groom: Koming and Wayan. I’m the one in the middle.

Since we were only in Ubud for three nights, we decided to do yet another thing we hadn’t done before: walk through the Ubud countryside (translation: vast rice fields). While attempting to follow a route suggested in one of our guidebooks (the directions left a bit to be desired), we made a few wrong turns, one in particular that set off a neighbourhood dog in a fit of snarling barks, chasing us back up the slope (much to its owner’s delight).

The trek took about three hours, during which we sighted rice field after rice field, flooding, harvesting, a river gorge and an intricate irrigation system, scarecrows comprised of a combination of stalks, metal and garbage, and miniature shrines. Finally the crooked stone and dirt path spit us out, sweaty, hot and dirty, about 1000 metres from where we were staying. Very convenient.

An old ibu works the fields.
A flooded rice field before harvest.

Although you can pretty much get anything you need in Ubud – massages, manicures, health retreats, yoga studios, sweet organic cuisine – really, there is no need. The place itself is enough – serene and beautiful in its nature alone. It envelopes and captures you with its beauty and raw nature. (Not to mention you could hide out in a warung/homestay and pretty much disappear altogether for months on the cheap.)

I can’t really articulate properly how I felt in Ubud. Some people may describe it as a spiritual connection. Others would say my aura agreed with it, or some other such nonsense. All I know is I felt quiet. I could just clamber up to our rooftop terrace (where the feature photo of this post was taken) and stare into the surroundings all day. Just watch life go by. I felt like I didn’t need to talk, or even think all the time. I felt serene. Or maybe I found something there I haven’t found anywhere else: peace.

Then again, it might have been the Bali Hai – pun intended.
– S
Categories: Adventure, Bali, Dining, Pool, Travel, wedding | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Postcard from Seminyak

Sooooo… it’s been more than a week since we first arrived on the sweet, sweet island of Bali, in the Hindu heart of the Indonesian archipelago. As incredibly long as the flights were (about 21 hours of total travel), we ‘toughed’ it out as best we could in our first-class pods. Rather than reiterating the fabulousness of traveling first class on Cathay Pacific, I’ll direct you to my 2010 Bali trip post.

We arrived in the crowded, hot and vaguely smelly Denpasar airport unperturbed, because after several trips to Bali, we know the drill. We arranged for immigration Fast Track service, and sure enough our paid ‘facilitator’ was waiting for us with a sign as we got off the escalator.

As our new friend disappeared with our passports, we eyed up the long and winding customs queue from the other side and couldn’t help but sigh with some relief that we had skipped over all of that. Of course, it’s always a little scary handing your passport over to a relative stranger, but this service is definitely worth it. Six mysterious minutes later our man emerged with our stamped passports and tourist cards for the return trip all tucked inside. Sweet developing world goodness.

Newsflash: it’s bloody hot when you’re in close proximity to the equator. Here, it’s 32 celsius with 100% humidity pretty much every day at this time of year. Constant sweating and at least two showers a day is the norm. This goes on well into the evening – it’s basically shorts and tanks ’round the clock. After a couple of days, we seriously can’t even remember what it’s like to be cold. Mind you, according to the weather reports from home, it’s the usual 24/7 November rain and wind festival, so I’m definitely not complaining – we’ll be re-joining the rest of our grumbling paisanos soon enough.

Our Seminyak villa: where all that is good and warm can be found. (And also many, many mosquitos.)

Our previous visits to Seminyak were done by day trip from sleepy Sanur (AKA Snore) on the east side of the island, our usual home base. This time, however, we rented a villa off Jalan Laksmana, the main road, sometimes called “Eat Street”. The idea was to hit some of our favourite haunts and actually log some beach time.

A Balinese cremation ceremony on Seminyak beach – note the duck trying to escape.

It’s become a bit of a tradition for us to hit Ku De Ta at least once a trip for sunset drinks and epic people-watching, and this trip was no different. It was a beautiful night, definitely sunset-worthy, and after scoring a sweet spot overlooking the beach, we settled in for lychee martinis, mojitos and lobster dumplings.

It was all moonbeams and kitten bums until I was returning from the washroom in high heels, misplaced a step, and did a spectacular face plant right in front of picture-snapping dinner patrons (I distinctly remember a flash or two as this was happening). The frustrating thing was I hadn’t even had that much to drink!

I returned to my seat with a wobbly chin and tears in my eyes, smarting from a temporary nose-dive (literally) to the ol’ self-confidence. Cam brought me around by pointing out the ridiculousness of the situation and soon had me laughing again. Everyone’s been there, in one form or another. Mine just happened to be on camera where every poseur in Bali happens to show up.

Hawkers on Seminyak beach.

On another night on the town, at another putatively super-cool Bali hangout (that shall go unnamed here), we happened to spot a big, furry rodent friend while sipping martinis and – unfortunately – waiting for our appetizer. I heard some scuffling, but Cam saw the whole thing, complete with rat jumping from the top of the bar (yes!) to the ground before zipping away. Our appetizer arrived shortly after that, and we promptly crossed the place off our list. Forever.

On the flip side, if you’re in Seminyak, go to Chandi. Just. Go. Are you there yet?

Let’s bottom-line this: for some, Seminyak is a must-see, renowned for its brown/black sand beach stretching from Kuta to the south, great (but expensive) shopping, and incredible restaurants. I know what you’re thinking: Oh, that sounds just horrible! However, compared to much of Bali, Seminyak is dirty, dusty, crowded, noisy, and just generally waaay too busy for us. It’s kind of like a been there, done that sort of place. Once is enough, say us.

But if you’re looking for a more ‘real’ laid-back Bali experience, try a villa tucked into the rice fields in Ubud, or head for the quiet sands of Sanur. That thought leads to my next post: walking through rice fields, getting caught in torrential rains, being practically deafened by gecko calls, and attending a Balinese wedding. This is all from our private haven tucked up in the cool, serene Bali highlands.

Sun setting over Seminyak beach.

– S

Categories: Bali, Beach, Dining, Glamorous, Pool, Shopping, Sunset, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Traveling Critter Diaries

Bonding with creatures in a foreign land – whether it’s on the cliffs of Negril, off Bali’s Indian Ocean or even the Pacific shores of Sayulita – is always an adventure. Mind you, I’m not too disappointed when it doesn’t happen, but it’s always a fun and unique experience when it does. Seeing as both Cam and I love animals and amphibians (I’m somewhat less inclined toward insects or massive hairy arachnids), I thought I’d share a few snapshots of our favourite critters from around the globe.

1. The Yowly Bungalow Kitty – Sanur, Bali
This grumpy little meower was constantly hanging around, lurking by one of the stone statues, creeping up the steps, or hanging off of the roof. Wherever it was, it would always let out a howler (or three) of a greeting, but would never let you get close enough to pet. In any case, Yowly was good – albeit distant – company, and always seemed to take us by pleasant surprise when we were having our late afternoon shower outdoors or sitting on our porch drinking kopi bali. I have a feeling life wasn’t all catnip and lazy mice for this one, though, judging by the not-so-impressed expression on its face.

2. Pups  West End, Negril, Jamaica
Pups (our clever nickname) was the dog of one of the caretakers from a villa property we stayed at on Negril’s dramatic cliffs. Pups immediately won us over with her friendly manner and infectious ‘smile’. She would wait for us by the gate when we came home from a day’s adventure, and then proceed to lounge in a patch of sunshine on the deck while we wound down. Other times she would play with my feet or sniff at Cam’s Red Stripe (that’s a beer, not a laceration). Although young, Pups was an excellent watchdog, knowing instinctively who should be on the property and who shouldn’t. She wasn’t a big fan of the water, though. Every time we decided to hang out at our private cove by the cliff’s edge, she would stand at a safe distance, barking at any wave that dared come too close to the rocks. A bit unusual for an animal who resided so close to the sea, but we accepted her for her loveable quirks nonetheless.

3. The Casa Iguana – Sayulita, Mexico
In Mexico, iguanas are about as common as tortillas, so it was no real surprise to encounter this enigmatic creature who suddenly appeared one late afternoon at our villa. We saw it only a couple of times, usually when we were floating in the pool or quietly reading in the shade. Out it would crawl from some nearby bush, and slowly and carefully inch its way across the warm rocks in its attempt to blend in with nature. It would then become a statue of sorts, soaking up the sun and occasionally eating the blue flowers growing nearby. (If you look closely you can see some petals in its mouth.) I could almost reach out and touch it. Almost. I kinda didn’t want to, though.

4. The Shrine-Wrecker – Seminyak, Bali
We were having a casual dinner at one of our favourite beach bars in Seminyak called Ku De Ta when this mischievous kitty jumped up on a shrine and began foraging for cookies and rice, knocking all of the prayer offerings asunder in its haste. Luckily I had my camera at the ready and managed to capture a genuine “Busted!” expression on its face (see featured photo at the top of this post). It didn’t seem to care much though, as it had obviously hit the late-lunch jackpot.

5. The Neighbourhood Happy Cat – Sayulita, Mexico
This was one of my favourite cat encounters while on holiday. This wide-eyed stunner just appeared at our door one evening and waltzed right into our villa (hard not to do when the climate demands doors be perpetually open). Fortunately it seemed to belong to someone, and so was free to roam around at will instead of having to look for food. Not in the least shy, this kitty would walk right up to you and wrap its little paws (sans claws) around your ankle, wanting to play, play, play. It visited us a few times around the same time every day, and I grew so attached that I missed it when we left.

6. The Whites – Mayfield Falls, Jamaica
Happily wagging away, this trio of strays greeted us outside the falls like old friends, snipping and playing with each other as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They kept a watchful eye as they followed us to the van though, sensing an opportunity for something more. Unfortunately all we had were limes, so they had to settle for a pet (or three).

7. The Cocky Cockatoo – Hamilton Island, Australia
I don’t know what it is with creatures and timing. Even this noisy little bird would appear on the railing of our posh beach club room at the same time every day, chirping and cackling. One time it actually flew into the room. Promptly unnerved by my surprised shrieking, it settled for a casual perch the railing for the rest of our stay, cackling away. Note the people watching from the infinity pool below.

8. Barfs – Sanur, Bali
“Barfs” is what we nicknamed a pathetic little dog that would roam Sanur Beach at twilight, making these heartbreaking gagging sounds, somewhere between a bark and a cough. It would never venture very close to us, mostly keeping to itself and sniffing under chairs for scraps left by beachgoers. We felt so sorry for it that we considered feeding it some of Cam’s boozy birthday cake, made for us by the kind hotel folks. As delish as this cake was the first time, every time we opened our bar fridge thereafter the strong smell of booze would make our stomachs turn (especially at 6 am). When we finally decided to give some to this poor little thing, he disappeared. Sorry, Barfs.

9. The Cutest (and Smartest) Pair of Hustlers – Negril, Jamaica
Anyone who’s traveled to a developing country has experienced the stray-animal-in-the-restaurant scenario, at least to some degree. It almost always involves canine or feline, usually pretty scruffy, with matted hair and an emaciated body. Patiently (or not so patiently), they wait for table scraps either dropped or given to them by hand. Or, you can get two real cuties like these who avoided common nuisance tactics. Instead, they let us know they were there with a couple of soft subtle mews, and then proceeded to watch us from across the patio. Although I admired them for it, it didn’t really matter in the end; they had me at first glance. What – I’d like to see you resist these adorable faces.

10. The Monkey on My Head – Bali
This memorable moment occurred on my first trip to Asia, when I was still a naive tourist (not like now – jaded and suspicious at every turn… just kidding). We were at a monkey forest up in the island’s highlands, getting a tour of the forest and its inhabitants. Of course, we’d been warned that monkeys like to pinch anything of value – wallet, keys, camera. However, no one told me they might end up jumping on your head. One minute we were in the middle of observing a mother cleaning her baby; the next an adult monkey had gotten a hold of my leg and started scrambling and clawing its way up my torso. I hardly had time to react before the crazy thing was holding on tight to my hair, grabbing for some nuts in the guide’s hand, which was of course right over my head. I realized it was all a plotted plan when the guide signalled Cam, who quickly snapped a pic. I’m sure glad we could all work as a team to make it happen.

– S

Categories: Adventure, Bali, Beach, Jamaica, Mexico, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Journey Before the Journey

Today I’m going to turn things a bit on their head and contemplate where I want to go, rather than where I’ve been.

Since the year’s practically half over, let’s start by taking stock of what’s already on the RADAR. This October will find us in lively Las Vegas. Not only will we be missing Canadian Thanksgiving (no preparing elaborate dinners – now there’s something to be thankful for!), we’re further risking family retaliation to see Metric, a favourite Canuck band of ours. This isn’t an arena show; they’re playing in the intimate, bar-like setting of the House of Blues. It really doesn’t get any better than that for seeing a great band.

Shortly after that, were back on ol’ faithful (AKA Cathay Pacific) bound for Bali, for three weeks this time. In fact, after much searching, we just finished securing the last of our three accommodations. Woot.

But what about 2013? And the year after that? First is deciding where to go – my favourite part. Second is figuring out the how to get to and from said place – my least favourite part. This is where my logistics-obsessed husband comes in. We often joke about that, quoting the Hip’s “Thugs”: “I do the rolling, you do the details.” Anyway, at one point we both agreed that a potential trip back to Europe sounded pretty good, with Paris or London as the initial destination (on the theory that one could get from London to Paris via the Eurostar). We further made the assumption that we’d use our Alaska Airlines miles for such a trip.

With a hopeful mindset, Cam did some digging and was quickly disappointed by the complexity and limited options. This is partly due to the fact that once we got a taste of first and business class on long-haul flights, we made it our mission never to fly economy on such lengthy flights again. Let’s just say it’s hard – really hard – to go back. I know that sounds spoiled and snobby, but there it is. Simple fact. My reasoning is this: for 15+ hour-long flights to, say, Asia and Australia, it’s definitely worth it. Plus living on the West Coast can make getting to Europe a wee bit tricky, with inevitable transfers from Toronto or Montreal or New York. So you might as well make all that time waiting in airports comfortable. VIP lounge, anyone?

But I digress. What Cam discovered was that the main Alaska affiliates for traveling to Europe – namely British Airways, American Airlines, and Air France – either:

  • Have very high fuel surcharges (we’re talking thousands of dollars);
  • Are always teetering on the verge of bankruptcy;
  • Really love to go on strike; or
  • Have reputations for less-than-stellar service (certainly not Cathay Pacific standards).

So this really got me thinking. While I’d love to return to Paris, I’ve been there, done that. It’s a big world, and there are a lot of places on our travel bucket lists, from Bora Bora to Buenos Aires. And, as luck would have it, Alaska Airlines recently partnered with Emirates Airlines, and the plan is to start offering awards travel to Dubai starting late this year – obviously, that opens up a whole new set of choices. Not to mention first class on EA is crazy-luxurious on the A380. We’re talking a martini bar, your private pod made even more private thanks to a pair of sliding closed doors, and – get this – showering facilities (with a five-minute time limit, mind). Decadence, much? All you have to do is watch Sex and the City 2 and you’ll know what I mean (note that I’m not in any way endorsing that movie). This would be almost as fun as the destination itself.

And, as we love our music – and love traveling for music – there’s the whole idea of coordinating a trip with some big concert. U2 in Rio? Coldplay in Abu Dhabi? Sign me up. (We’d probably still go if that didn’t work out, though.)

I guess what I’m saying is I’m sort of itching to do something different, in much the same way as when Cam and I took a bit of a risk going to Sayulita for the first time. Now it’s time to try somewhere else like Zihuatanejo: a definite possibility for next spring. And then there’s the extraordinary adventure of an African safari… something I’ve always dreamed of. But that could probably wait until we’re a lot older because a) we’ll have a lot more time and money (hopefully) and b) we’ll fit right in with all of the other grey-hair oldsters who seem to gravitate to such experiences (meaning guided tours).

Of course, we could always do someplace just sort of nuts Moscow or Uluru. Oh, wait… I’ve already been to that last place. How cool is that.

It’s time to get the atlas out again and start dreaming.

– S

PS. Where in the world do you absolutely love and would recommend?

Categories: Adventure, California, Europe, France, Glamorous, Mexico, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Up in the Air

Featured photo: the famous Ku De Ta bar and restaurant on Seminyak beach.

Rewind to five years ago, my first trip to Bali. As I’ve already intimated in a previous post, it’s one of my favourite places in the world. It’s got that je ne sais quoi, with a perfect mix of balmy climate, breathtaking geography, amazing and varied cuisine, and a very sincere and gracious populace. Also, heaps of weirdness.

Yes, as soon as you breathe in the humid air scented with frangipani and incense, you’ll be hooked. Squint against the hazy sun, feel the heavy breeze in your hair. Listen to the cacophony of people talking all at once, try to avoid getting hit by one of the hundreds of scooters zipping by (most bearing three to four riders), and you’ll be contentedly aware that this is a very special place.

Since it was my first time there, I indulged in all the usual touristy things: visiting temples (about as numerous European castles), beaching, snorkelling, taking in traditional dances, visiting silversmiths, seeking out woodcarvers, treading the coffee plantation, and of course, laughing through the monkey forests. And let’s not forget the shopping. Oh, the kickass shopping …

OK, I must stop right there, because this post isn’t about the shopping (although I HAVE to say it’s amazing). This is about seeing Bali from a different perspective: up in the air.

Holy temple Tanah Lot

One day we decided to go on a private helicopter tour over the island. It was surprisingly costly, so we asked around our hotel to see whether anyone was game to share the cost. No dice. To us, though, there are some things in life that are expensive yet worth a lifetime of memories – and we figured this qualified.

At this point in the trip, we had become good friends with our local driver, Made (‘MA-day’), who took very good care of us, driving us to the cultural hub of Ubud, the shopping district of Seminyak, the beaches of Kuta, and even up to volcanic Gunung Batur in the heart of Bali. He waited patiently when we went out ‘on the island’ at night. He educated us on the history of Bali, protected us from overly-aggressive vendors, and helped us rent umbrellas from jostling children at a temple in the middle of an incredible tropical downpour. He also taught us some Indonesian idioms that you’re not going to see in any guidebook (for example, kupu kupu malam, which literally means “night butterfly”, but is a euphemism for a prostitute – good to know, Made!).

We decided on a whim one night (wine may have been involved) to ask Made to come with us on the helicopter ride, as a token of our appreciation. Although we saw him almost every day at the hotel, this one particular time he was nowhere to be found. Asking around, we discovered that he was on the night shift, and wouldn’t be arriving at the hotel until much later. So we decided to leave him a note asking how he would feel about going flying with us the following day.

We had a good time speculating about his potential reaction to this missive. The guidebooks will tell you that in Indonesia it’s considered polite to decline the first offer. The offerer is then expected to ask again, and only then is it considered OK to accept. Given that theory, we fully expected him to say no at first, then no or yes the second time, depending on whether he wanted to do it or not. Very confusing, but highly amusing as well from a wine-and-speculation perspective.

The next day, I was full of beans wanting to get on this flying thing, so Cam made his way to the driver’s area to see if Made was around. No more than 10 minutes later, Cam returned, quite excited. “What did he say?” I asked, fully expecting a “No, insane Canadian people!” Cam laughed and said, “Are you kidding? He didn’t even hesitate to say “YES!”. I was thrilled – so much for tradition. As it happened, Made took the note home to his wife the previous night, and, incredulous, read a translation of it to her. She didn’t believe him, saying she wanted proof. “No problem,” I said, when he later tells us this, pointing to my camera. (Of course, the battery died part way through, but I did manage to get some great shots.)

Cool as a cucumber, Made showed no signs of apprehension as we made our way to the airstrip, through security, and into the helicopter. (We learned later that he was frightened senseless – we mistook his lack of breathing for ultra-calm.) With an odd number of passengers, there was no debate on who should sit where; Cam and I practically shoved Made into the front seat beside the pilot. He didn’t even have time to protest as we buckled up and prepared for take-off.

Almost needless to say, the helicopter tour over Bali was breathtaking. I’ll let the pictures tell this part of the story:

Made in the front seat. He's not nervous at all...

Mt. Batur

Rice fields

Me and Made post flight

Post flight, Made was slightly more animated, borderline giddy and chuckling frequently in that endearing way of his. He struggled to convey how he felt up there: unbelievably free, yet disoriented. As someone who’s used to navigating a van in crazy traffic all day long, he was a little dismayed and apologetic that he was unable to identify the landmarks of the place he’s lived in all his life and knows so well on terra firma. It turns out that Made has never left Bali, let alone set foot in a flying apparatus before this little jaunt. Aviation-wise, I guess the front seat in a helicopter is as good a place to start as any.

– S

P.S. I mailed a bunch of these photos to Made and his family after we got back to Canada. He was very grateful for that (and his wife believes him now).

Categories: Adventure, Bali, Glamorous, Travel | Tags: , , , | 3 Comments

The Monkey Chair

Weird Dining Experiences, Episode 1

Those who know me well (or sometimes even a little) know that Bali is one of my favourite places in the world. I’ve been there three times in the past four years, and I’m going back this November. Yeah, you could say I’ve got big plans for this place, which includes retiring there before I’m 50. For at least half the year, maybe more. And it’s not just to escape the cold; I live in the warmest place in all of Canada (which is like saying you’re the tallest midget in the room, but it is a lovely place).

Full disclosure: for Westerners, Bali has its share of weirdness – heaps of the stuff, in the raw. But, it tends towards the very best weirdness. Our home base when we go there is the amazing and extremely hospitable Tandjung Sari in quiet Sanur, on the east coast of the island. This family-run boutique hotel is a real gem of a place, where you are welcomed warmly and treated like family. We’ve become friends with the people who run the place, and they’re a big part of why we keep coming back.

Sunrise on Sanur Beach

Because of Bali’s diverse mix of tourists (tons of Aussies, Europeans, Japanese, and a very few Canucks) it’s full of all kinds of restaurants, serving every imaginable cuisine: Italian, Australian, Chinese, French, German, and of course, ridiculously amazing Indonesian. One place we stumbled upon as we were wandering around a maze of cobblestone streets, with scooters whizzing by and noise everywhere was a place called Le Resto Ming. Because there are so many restaurants in Bali, many are often empty, which was a bit weird to us at first, but by this time we had gotten used to it; such was the case with Ming on this particular night.

Let the weirdness begin…
We walked through the open entrance and were instantly greeted by at least five smiling Balinese, who promptly trip over themselves to seat us in this expansive place, with its ornate decor of Indonesian carvings and artwork adorning the walls. It’s got a distinct Asian feel, complete with carpets, fringes and Buddhas. Soooooo… we were a bit surprised when we discovered it served French cuisine. Then again, why not?

As we followed the enthusiastic hostess to our table, we noticed that we’re almost the only two people there, aside from another couple who are in the process of paying and leaving. The hostess helped us to our seats, and her male sidekick pulled out our chairs, placing napkins on our lap. It was sorta like we’re in this weird Asian adaptation of the snazz dining room at the Empress in our hometown.

“Would you prefer Primate or Non-Primate?”
We opened the menu and started perusing the choices, trying not to notice three or so people hovering over us, ready to take our drink order, even though we’ve only been there for about 20 seconds. We attempt to take our time, noticing out of the corner of our eyes another staff member coming over to our table with a tiny chair, which he proceeds to place beside my own. Baffled, I raise my eyebrows to Cam, and – without missing a beat – he stage-whispers: “It’s for the monkey.” We laugh.

The server senses our confusion, and, with English not being his first language, gestures to my purse. “It’s for my purse?” I exclaim, amazed. “Yes, yes, your purse,” he answers, smiling broadly, apparently very proud that they offer this service. Although at first it seems a bit absurd, I quickly find this idea brilliant, and happily go along with it. Chuckling to ourselves a bit more, we order some wine, which appears almost immediately. At this rate, we figure we’re gonna finish dinner and be out of there in about 20 minutes.

Hall of (washroom) mirrors
Now, when we’re on vacation, Cam and I tend to comment on the washrooms of restaurants we frequent; it’s often a bit of an adventure, and we always make sure we report back. Well, with Ming, it was no different. My slightest movement resulted in someone zooming over and saying, “Toilet?” It was eerie – and highly convenient.

I’m led through a narrow entrance, an ornate wood door, leading to a cramped hallway with individual rooms on either side. Turns out each of these doors lead to your very own washroom, with a sink, full-length mirror, even your own Buddha! I almost expected to see someone there, waiting, ready to flush the toilet for me. Crazy and over-the-top, but I loved it.

The Countdown
I come back, place my purse on my special chair, take a sip of wine, and then notice that Cam has almost finished his glass (I was having so much fun in my own private washroom that I was reluctant to leave). Sure enough, our waiters are well… waiting, trying not to be obvious, and failing to an epic degree. Cam suggests we play a game and guess how long it will be before they jump to fill his wine glass as soon as he’s finished. We decide it will be about 10 seconds. Sure enough, he drinks the last bit, and we start counting down: “ten, nine, eight seven, six, five, four, three, two, ….” and there they are. Under 10 seconds. Impressive.

In a nutshell
Le Resto Ming: great food. Decent wine list. Funky, electic atmosphere. Impeccable service. And your very own monkey chair.

– S
Categories: Bali, Travel | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

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