Singaraja, Bali, Indonesia - January, 2002

From "Travels in a Blue Chair" - a series of short stories 

             At the beginning of 2002, I decided to go off backpacking for four months. Most of the trip was spent visiting those places in Australia that I hadn’t been to yet.  However, I also like to use Australia as a jumping off point for more exotic side trips into Southeast Asia.  I always get strange looks from the Australian customs agents on my return (this last time they continually checked my bags for drugs), as most backpackers will leave the country and not return again in one or two weeks.  For me, since I travel alone in my chair, there is only so much third world that I can handle, and at some point I need to return to a western, first world country, to regain my strength and have a proper shower.

             I arrived in Denpasar, Indonesia on the island of Bali in the Java Sea at around 10pm.  The Tour East agency had stated that I would find an accessible ride to my northern destination however as I emerged from the airport to a hot, muggy tropical evening I was met by two agents driving a high van.  It was all I could do to barely stand up and then have to receive assistance up into the passenger seat.  We started out on a three-hour ride to Lovina Beach on the north shore to find to my "wheelchair friendly" resort, that I had booked through Qantas. I was extremely thirsty after not drinking during the long flight from Melbourne, and since I was flush with 100,000 rupiah notes from the airport moneychanger, I asked if I could spring for a round of soft drinks before we left the city.  A cool bottle of pop never tasted so good.

             The three-hour drive up and over the mountains in the middle of the night was scarier than a thrill ride at an amusement park.  Winding along, with turns every two minutes or so and straight down once we got past the peak.  It was too bad that it was dark though and I couldn't see much. I did see some of the towns as we drove through in the middle of the night.  They were still quite active and the Hindu influence on the island was quite evident from all the small shrines that we passed.  Bali is a bit of an anomaly in Indonesia.  It is one of the last islands to have joined the country and is the only non-Moslem island.  Just after I returned from my holiday there had been a terrible bombing that killed many Australian and other tourists.  It was a horrible tragedy and I think that the economic ramifications are still being felt even today.

             The arrival at 1:30am was down a long driveway to a beautiful hotel.  We parked the van and I finally disembarked hoping for a quick registration and then a nice shower before bed.  The problem was that when I wheeled up to the entrance, the lobby was up nine stairs!  At this point it must be said that I was not the most gracious of tourists since I had been assured by the travel agent in Hobart that the facility was completely accessible.  I was not happy.  The manager escorted me around the back, past the garbage scows and I struggled over all kinds of metal debris on the ground to my room.  The resort actually looked quite nice and each of the rooms in my area were bungalow styled townhouse units but I noticed another problem that I hoped would not be evident in my unit.  It was. In order to gain entry I would have to negotiate another 3 stairs!  The two agents and the manager helped me up the stairs and I gave the Qantas boys a good piece of my mind.  What was nice was the way they took my fury, with smiles and assurances that everything would be fixed to my liking.  I was too tired to spend much time arguing and decided to go in and go to sleep.  I would worry about it in the morning.

             The next day was spent instructing the local workers on ways to build me some half-baked ramps out of the only material they had, flimsy plywood.  The problem was that I still couldn't use it independently due to the steepness of the ramp, but it was better than nothing. To cap off a perfect welcome to Bali, the guests had a party the night I arrived and had put up decorations.  In the hurry of the staff to clean up after the guests, they left the tacks on the ground near the dining area, and of course, my chair found one.  I had my trusty extra tube, that I’d bought in Noosa Beach, Queensland, and had it fixed. Eventually after days of complaints, someone from Qantas came out mid-week to see what I was talking about, and agreed the stairs were a problem. You think?!

             Anyway, besides those problems, the place was desolate except for a few older Dutch and Swedish tourists. Lovina Beach, located near Singaraja, is not very busy due to the drive you have to take to get there and they have black sand, which is not the favourite of tourists.  It seemed to me that most of the tourists that I did see were those who only stayed for a day or two, as part of an organized tour. I didn’t mind the remoteness one bit because it was the silence and relaxation that I sought. 

    The resort offered a buffet breakfast each day that was included in my package. There were some wonderfully weird Asian fruits to try, rambutan, a red hairy fruit the size of a chestnut, that you open and reveal a white grape-like fruit, with a nut inside, you only eat the white fruit. And, snake fruit, which has skin like a snake, but inside is white, but firmer, a bit like eating a sour apple.  I liked it a lot. Being so close to the island of Java, of course, the coffee was the best I've had since my days in Kenya. I ordered a cheese omelette one morning and got an omelette, with the cheese on the side!

             The Qantas brochure indicated that I could rent a driver and car for a day. However, when I enquired I was informed that they don't go up to the north coast.  As a way of placating another disappointment on this trip, my guide asked his buddies to drive me. When they arrived I wasn't so sure it was a good decision.  The old beat-up van had no seat belts, no air conditioning and not much in the way of brakes.  But the two of them seemed enthusiastic and confident that they could do the job.

             As we left the resort I finally got a chance to see a bit of the local countryside.  There were plenty of motorcycles as well as cars and the blue smoke coming out of everyone’s exhaust pipes was testament to the terrible pollution that Asia has to deal with.  The cities were quite rustic but were very well kept.  Each little town or village had a sign welcoming you there and then another as you left saying goodbye.  The vegetation was very thick with trees and ferns and as we entered into the rural areas up in the hills, the foliage became lush.  Our destination was Mt. Batur and the magnificent volcanic lake that is beneath it. From a distance we could see the mountain come into view and as we drew nearer the scenery became even more spectacular.  My two hosts drove to a special lookout point where I could point my camera for some great shots.  As is usual in such places, the vendors came out of the woodwork to ask if I needed to buy something to remember the moment.  Actually it was a bit annoying, but I did need a t-shirt and some postcards, so I got them there and we were finally left alone to enjoy the beautiful natural landmark.

             My drivers, one of whom spoke excellent English, also had another destination in mind for me.  I mentioned that I wanted to see some of the famous terraced rice paddies that are reputed to rival those in Japan for beauty.  We started to head back down the mountains to the Three Lakes Region and Gobleg. Yes, that is the real name of the place, Gobleg!  I loved the road signs and had no idea what was in store there. As we crossed over the top of the range of mountains, a sudden thunderstorm hit us as we were just at the end of the rainy season.  I’m not kidding when I tell you that with these two guys going 60km down the hill with all the rainwater from above us, floating down the road under us and minimal braking power, it was a thrill a second! I didn't think we could make it and avoid all the pedestrians and bikes on the road too. 

    We finally emerged from the rain after half an hour’s deluge to puffy, white clouds and the sun shining against a blue sky.  We stopped briefly for petrol and a drink. I was shocked when I did the math to figure out that the Indonesians were paying only 10 cents a liter for their gas.  We also stopped briefly in a wonderful valley that was the home to one of my escorts.  He needed water for his radiator and decided it would be a good time to stop in and see his mother at the same time.  We stopped along a wharf and saw some young fishermen with long poles trying to catch some dinner.  One of the anglers was my driver’s cousin and he proudly showed us his modest catch.  I thought about what an idyllic place this would be to live and grow up in.

             The mountain terrain became a bit rough as we moved back up and away from the lowlands.  I finally saw the sign that indicated we were arriving at Gobleg.  Our shabby van moved slowly along the road and finally we were treated to one of the most wondrous sights I’d ever been treated to.  We sat on the shores taking in the two lakes, side by side, and the magnificent tropical scenery as the remaining clouds from the finishing storm drifted by.  Gobleg reminded me of Interlaken in Switzerland, two lakes on either side with the town in the middle, except that on the sides of the valleys were the beautiful rice terraces that I had been longing to view..

             In the end, I decided it had been worth the death-defying trip. At the end of the day, the guides invited me to dine with them in local Balinese fare at the roadside stand. They were impressed that I could stand the spicy food, and we shared some very potent beer. I knew that I had made some new friends and seen a piece of an island paradise that I would remember for a long time.            

© 2002 - Walt Balenovich