Where to Go
Bali is not a large island: you can easily get to any place on Bali in several hours. But to the Balinese, the island is their universe—a world unto itself. You will cut traveling time and get to know different areas of Bali in depth if you make overnight stays or visits of a few days in each of the island’s regions.
Don’t expect—and don’t even try—to rush around seeing all the temples and other cultural attractions on the island, or all those mentioned in this section. The island scenery and fleeting glimpses of everyday life are just as rewarding. Best of all is to turn a corner and find a procession, perhaps the whole population of a village, dressed in their best and blocking the road. Balinese temples, palaces, and other buildings, however exotic or exquisite, only really come to life when filled with ceremonies and the bustle of festivals. We have selected some of the most interesting and important attractions, but to truly appreciate and absorb what you see, we suggest that you take a few at a time.
Start as soon after dawn as possible, when it’s cool and the light is better for photography. A prompt start also gives you extra time to reach the more remote areas.
The Southern Resorts
Most of Bali’s tourism is concentrated in a tiny fraction of the island, with the vast majority of visitors heading for the “big three” beaches, namely Sanur, Kuta, and Nusa Dua, all within a short drive of the airport. Some stretches of sand are so magnificent and the water so warm, it’s hard to believe that they were ignored for so long by the Balinese people, who have traditionally turned away from the sea. Now visitors come in the millions from all over the world with little in mind but sun, sand, warm seas, and watersports.
Sanur
Southeast of Denpasar, Bali’s capital, Sanur is where the first modern tourist hotel, 10 stories high, was built in the 1960s. Fortunately, no other high-rise hotels have been built on Bali—the authorities decreed that in the future no building should be higher than a palm tree.
In atmosphere, Sanur falls somewhere between the brash, noisy Kuta and secluded, pricey Nusa Dua. Half-hidden by tropical gardens and foliage, many of Sanur’s hotels are small in scale, and face the pleasant, sandy beach. The water is generally calm, protected from waves and undercurrents by an outlying coral reef. At high tide, the swimming is wonderful, but at low tide, the water dips to knee or waist level, and wading is the only activity possible. Beyond the reef are massive pounding waves, a challenge for experienced surfers.
Just inland, parallel to the beach, the town of Sanur looks at first like nothing more than a long strip of souvenir shops, clothing boutiques, and restaurants. But take a walk along some of the lanes leading off the main road, Jalan Tanjung Sari, or beyond the impatient traffic of the bypass (Jalan Bypass) and you’ll find traditional life still going on as if tourism had never happened. Many small Indonesian and seafood restaurants on the street are pleasant; one or two are outstanding. Sanur hotels provide the best top-bracket dining.
Only a short walk north along the shore from the ten-story Grand Bali Beach Hotel is the Le Mayeur Museum, once the house of the Belgian painter, Adrien Jean Le Mayeur. He came to Bali in 1932 and stayed to marry the beautiful Ni Pollok, who had been a well-known legong dancer (see page 88) before retiring (at 14!) to teach dance. In its day, the garden with its ponds and statues was open on the seaward side; now it is fully enclosed. The outside of the house is covered with stone carvings while the interior is a gallery of sculpture collected by Le Mayeur. The walls are hung with his own paintings: European landscapes, Balinese scenes, and studies of dancers, including Ni Pollok. When Le Mayeur died in 1958, the house was turned into a museum that his widow ran until her death in 1985.
Near the small harbor at this end of Sanur Beach you can find motorized prahu (outrigger boats) to take you to Nusa Lembongan, an island 17 km (11 miles) offshore to the east, which is noted for its good surfing and snorkeling.
At the southern end of Sanur Beach, near the Sanur Beach Hotel, the signs point to Pura Belanjong. It’s only a short walk, but few people find their way to this old temple, deserted unless there’s a ceremony. A stone pillar, now set in a pit and protected by railings, bears an inscription said to date from a.d. 913, but as it is normally wrapped in cloth you’re unlikely to see it.
Kuta
The most famous stretch of beach in Bali forms the western shore of a narrow neck of land just north of the airport. After travelers in the 1960s discovered that they could enjoy a back-to-nature existence here at minimal cost, they gathered in ever-increasing numbers. Tales were told in Australia about the “perfect wave,” and Kuta became the dream destination for every surfer. Once a poor fishing village and wasteland believed to be inhabited by bad spirits, by the 1980s it was transformed into a frenetic scene, fueled by plenty of alcohol and, for a while, illegal drugs. The height limit was virtually the only regulation applied to building, and a sprawling shantytown soon sprang up. Theft and prostitution (chiefly blamed on incomers from the other islands) looked as if they were becoming endemic. On and off the beach, every foreigner was plagued by hawkers as adhesive as bush flies.
Eventually, voices were heard at banjar meetings urging a clean-up and the raising of standards. Today Kuta has gone a long way toward putting its house right. Drugs have largely disappeared and crime rates are down, although you still need to beware of pickpockets and shouldn’t leave property unguarded. Traffic, however, remains Kuta’s nightmare.
Kuta, and its progressively upscale neighbors to the north — Legian, Seminyak, and Kerobokan (as well as Tuban, to the south) — provide an enormous selection of hotels, restaurants, pubs, and shopping choices. In all price ranges, you’ll find some of the best Italian, French, Vegetarian, Asian, and Mexican restaurants on the island, as well as some of the best shops for crafts from other islands, fashion, locally produced ikat cloth, and casual Bali-style beach clothing. In keeping with its new image, Kuta has begun to acquire the trappings of a modern town, in the form of the multi-story Kuta Center and Galleria shopping and leisure complexes. Every street and gang (alley) is lined with moneychangers, clothing shops, car and bike rental agencies, all sorts of accommodations, and numerous bars and restaurants.
The beach is the real reason to be here, and even though you won’t escape the hawkers, it’s a rest cure after the bustle of the town. Swim only between the flags, where Australian-style lifeguards keep watch: the undertow and currents can be hazardous. Surf shops abound.
Towards sunset, a golden light reflects off the sea and local people come out to stroll or paddle in the shallows. Young men play soccer on the sand or join the tourists in a volleyball game, while the eager beach masseuses rustle up a new wave of business.
At nightfall, new choices beckon. You can inspect Bali’s selection of shops, pick a restaurant, go on a pub crawl, or see a movie and wait for midnight when the discos get into gear.
Kuta’s Neighbors
Kuta Beach can mean the small area around the original village, or the whole coast stretching from the airport north to Legian and beyond. Kuta’s neighbors are developing separate identities. Tuban Beach to the south has half a dozen big hotels and a waterpark with waterslides and a swimming pool, attracting families and groups. The beach has calmer water, and streets are quieter; however, sea pollution can sometimes be a problem here.
Adjoining Kuta to the north, Legian at first seems like more of the same, with a big concentration of places to eat, drink, dance, and sleep along Jalan Melasti, Jalan Padma, and Jalan Legian itself. Sunrise is an idyllic time to be on Legian Beach. Surfers are out at the first light of dawn and runners pace the water’s edge. The farther north you go, the less congested the streets and the beach, until you can almost find yourself standing alone on the broad sands of Seminyak.
North again, surfers find their way to Canggu Beach by way of narrow tracks through the rice fields. The final kilometer or so is passable only by motorcycle or on foot.
Bukit Badung
Referred to simply as Bukit (or “the hill”) by the Balinese, the peninsula south of the airport is almost a separate island. Most of it is a windswept limestone plateau, entirely unlike the rest of southern Bali. Too dry for rice, its rocky soil is used to grow beans, cassava, and peanuts. In the past, few people lived here, and the only reason they might visit was to worship at one of the temples and particularly at Uluwatu on the cliffs at the western tip. In the 1980s the government decided to develop an exclusive resort zone at Nusa Dua, on the eastern side of the Bukit peninsula. Another site on the peninsula, set aside for use by the people of Bali, but also of interest to tourists, is the Garuda Wisnu Kencana Cultural Park, at Ungasan, Jimbaran. Its centerpiece, currently under construction, will be an enormous statue of Vishnu the Protector that will rival New York’s Statue of Liberty in size.
At Nusa Dua, the outside world — even the everyday Balinese world — is excluded. The name, meaning “two islands,” refers to two knobs of land sticking out from the coast in the middle of the reserve. They are not true islands but are each connected by a narrow neck of land. As at Sanur, when the tide is out, the water is too low for swimming, but most Nusa Dua hotels have vast swimming pools. There’s little traffic or noise, and no hassle from hawkers in this neatly manicured expensive hotel zone. A dozen luxury hotels sprawl amid spacious grounds next to dazzling white beaches, with two championship golf courses, a convention center at the Sheraton Nusa Indah Hotel, and the Galleria, a modern shopping and restaurant complex in the same area. Predictably, lower-priced hotels and affordable eating places line the 5 km (3 miles) of coast north of Nusa Dua’s hotel zone, all the way to Benoa. Once a dusty, somnolent fishing village, Benoa has turned into a watersports center of buzzing jet skis, motorboats, diving centers, and bars.
Don’t confuse Benoa village (Tanjung Benoa) with Benoa Port, on the opposite (north) side of the muddy inlet known as Benoa Harbor. Reached from the Sanur-Kuta road by a long causeway, the harbor is where cargo ships tie up. There is a charge for driving along the causeway to the jetty, and no reason for going to the end unless you plan to take the fast twin-hull, Maubua Express ferry to Lombok, a cruise to Nusa Lembongan, or a deep-sea fishing trip.
Jimbaran Beach is a great arc of sand facing a sheltered bay south of the airport, shared by a handful of resort hotels and a fishing village. More hotels are rapidly going up on a new access road that runs parallel to the coast here. Look for the sign to Uluwatu on the road from the airport toward Nusa Dua — you have to pass it and then make a U-turn. Jimbaran Beach is famous for its restaurants that serve fresh grilled fish and seafood on the beach.
The road across the Bukit peninsula climbs past limestone quarries to a height of 200 m (660 ft) on its way to the western tip of land and Pura Luhur Uluwatu. All the way up the long flight of steps of this temple, and especially near the shrines, you’ll be eyed by monkeys that are friendly, assuming they’ve already been well fed. Bus tours converge on Uluwatu toward sunset, and the romance of the place is somewhat spoiled.
Denpasar
The capital of Bali since the end of World War II, Denpasar was still a small market town only 20 years ago. Now ten times the size, fueled by prosperity from the tourism boom, with all the government institutions and buildings to match its status, it’s a noisy, polluted urban sprawl. Rush hour lasts most of the day, and when traffic lights change there’s a cavalry charge of motorcycles and scooters. In the middle of it all, the better-off live in traditional family compounds — extra-high walls are the main concession to this kind of life. Those who have had to adapt to apartment living in the city can still have their family temple — on the roof!
The most prominent central landmark is a big grey statue of the four-faced Hindu god, Catur Muka, looking each way at the main intersection. The one-way system here sends traffic north up Jalan Veteran (Veteran Street) or east along Jalan Surapati which, after changes of name, becomes the road to Sanur. West of the intersection, Jalan Gaja Mada is lined with banks, shops, and restaurants. It soon meets Jalan Sulawesi and then the dirty and often rather smelly Badung River. The city’s main fresh produce market, Pasar Badung, jams a four-story building and is open from before dawn until midday. Just across the river is a similar building housing the handicraft and textile market, Pasar Kumbasari.
The colonial Bali Natour Hotel stands on both sides of Jalan Veteran. A little farther along on the left there’s another mar-ket, flowing out into the adjoining street. About 1 km (1⁄2 mile) along Jalan Veteran, the bird market caters to the local liking for caged birds, from big hornbills to tiny songsters.
The big area of grass south of Jalan Surapati is Alun-alun Puputan (Puputan Square), site of the puputan or mass suicide in 1906 of the Raja of Badung’s court (see page 19).
At the farthest corner of Puputan Square, you’ll find the Bali Museum (Museum Negeri Propinsi Bali). This interesting, but rather antiquated museum of ethnography, history, and art was created by the Dutch in 1910. Three of the four museum buildings (fascinating in themselves) represent different styles of palace architecture. The main building contains historical artifacts, ranging from a 2,200-year-old stone sarcophagus to photographs of the 1906 puputan; upstairs is a collection of day-to-day and household items. The First Pavilion, designed in the Singaraja style, displays antique Balinese textiles; the Second Pavilion, in the 18th century Karangasaem style, houses religious and ceremonial objects; the Third Pavilion, designed in the style of the Tabanan Regency, displays artifacts used in music and dance, including a collection of masks, puppets, and costumes. The museum is not strong on catalogues or labels; enjoy the displays for their own intrinsic beauty.
The temple adjoining the museum compound is the recently constructed Pura Jagatnata, built mainly out of white coral and dedicated to Sanghyang Widi, the Supreme God. Of the many Hindu gods, the trinity of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva is considered to be pre-eminent, but a single god of whom all others are manifestations ties in conveniently with the Indonesian pancasila, or national code.
The tiny Catholic community attends St. Joseph’s Church on Jalan Kepundung, off Jalan Surapati, a building thatched with palm fronds and with six distinctly Balinese-looking angels carved in stone standing above the door.
The imposing Arts Centre, in spacious gardens off Jalan Nusa Indah at Abiankapas, some way out to the east, has a permanent exhibition of paintings and woodcarvings and an arena for dance and drama. A major Arts Festival is held here every June and July. Ask about chances to see dancers and musicians practicing, as well as regular performances given for visitors. You can also see dance nearby at the Sekolah Tinggi Semi Indonesia, formerly the Indonesian Academy of Dance, and still a dance academy.
Renon, in the southeast, is where most government buildings are gathered, including the main post office, many consulates, and tourist information offices.
From Denpasar to Ubud: The Craft Villages
When the rajas ruled Bali, they organized the various crafts on a village basis. One village would specialize in wood-carving, another in weaving, and a third in basketry. Passed down through each family, today those same skills are still practiced in the same communities. Along the busy road north from Denpasar to Ubud, the various craft villages have virtually merged into each other, but you can tell which one you’re in by their products.
A noisy traffic junction, the village of Batubulan (moonstone) specializes in carving statues, friezes, and ornaments out of soft grey paras stone. Easily shaped, it just as easily wears away, so outdoor temple decorations last only a few decades, and there is a constant demand for replacements. Bug-eyed demons and tranquil heads of the Buddha, each different, line the road and fill the yards of the many workshops. Batubulan’s temple is naturally a showcase. The barong dance (see page 89), staged every morning here, is a totally commercial production attended by busloads of tourists. Taman Barung Bali Bird Park, just north of Batubulan, is a well-arranged exhibit of exotic birds and the famous Indonesian Komodo dragon lizards.
Stop in nearby Sukawati for wind-chimes, puppets, basketry, ceremonial umbrellas, and jewelry. Many stalls have been brought together in the big Art Market building.
Celuk (pronounced Cheluk), between Ubud and Denpasar, is a center for hundreds of silversmiths and goldsmiths, their shops and workplaces line the main road and spill down every gang. They can produce any style, from ornate pieces with semi-precious stones to delicate filigree work or modern designs. Tour buses make a regular stop at one of the big galleries, but prices should be lower down the small lanes.
Like Ubud, Batuan developed a distinctive painting style in the 1930s when Western techniques influenced the local artists (see page 53). Dark forest green and black predominate in the early Batuan pictures, relieved by flashes of white and amber. The village is still a center for art: Painters today feature surfers and photographers, as well as Jeep-loads of tourists among the massed figures in their pictures. The main temple, Pura Desa Batuan, is especially lavish in its carving decoration.
A short diversion eastwards will bring you to Blahbatuh, where the palace compound, Puri Blahbatuh, has turned into a commercial orchid nursery, sometimes referred to as Puri Anggrek (Orchid Palace).
Nearby, Belega specializes in bamboo, producing massive pieces of furniture. You’ll see them on display along the main street, and also in some of Bali’s hotels. Then comes Bona, a center of basketry which also bills itself as the home of the kecak dance. The regular performances here are certainly more complete than most versions.
Back on the road to Ubud: Mas is famous for its woodcarvers, furniture makers, and mask-carvers. Vast numbers of shops and workshops line the long main street. Unless a shop has been specifically recommended, just stop anywhere and look inside, without buying right away. Then investigate the side streets. Away from the traffic, you might find an entire family producing wooden hangings for the export market.
Ubud
Once a magnet for foreign artists and still home to some, Ubud and the cluster of villages around it form the cultural and artistic focus of Bali. An increasing number of visitors come on day trips from the coastal resorts, but a better plan is to stay overnight or longer. There’s a wide choice of accommodations, ranging from cheap homestays and charming middle range hotels to high-priced luxury hideaways in the countryside just outside Ubud.
Day trippers only get to see the commercialism and chaos in Ubud’s main streets. Just a short walk away, however, you’re among the green, peaceful rice terraces and jungle-filled river gorges that have captivated Bali’s visitors for decades and are so much a part of the region’s legendary mystique.
For schedules of dance performances and other events in the vicinity, pay an early visit to the Bina Wisata information office on Jalan Raya. Excellent, very inexpensive performances of traditional dance are offered in the atmospheric compound beside the palace in the center of town. In addition to its many shops, markets, and galleries, Ubud is home to a number of interesting museums.
Museum Puri Lukisan is reached by a gateway across the road from the tourist office on Jalan Raya. In lush gardens, a fine hall has been built to house the works from the collection of the Dutch painter, Rudolf Bonnet, who helped guide the Pita Maha art movement in the 1930s, and from the collection of his patron, Cokorda Gde Agung Sukawati, who governed Ubud for many decades. Look for the work of I Gusti Nyoman Lempad, one of the first artists to adopt Western techniques and bring the flat wayang figures of traditional painting to life. Remarkably, he was probably over 50 years old when he met Walter Spies and Bonnet (see page 53). Even he did not know his exact age. The museum’s estimate that he died in 1978 at the age of 115 may be an exaggeration. I Gusti Nyoman Lempad was chief architect and sculptor to the ruling Sukawati family of Ubud, and designed the Pura Saraswati temple, with its beautiful lotus pond and water garden, on Jalan Raya.
The superb Museum Neka, 2 km (11⁄2 miles) out of town to the north of Campuhan, was founded by a local dealer and collector, Suteja Neka. In four galleries you can see the work of the Europeans who were so influential, as well as that of the finest local artists.
Some of the most striking pictures are by Indonesians working in a purely Western idiom. While others were creating new Balinese styles, they wholeheartedly adopted Western ways: Only in their subject matter do these so-called “Academic painters” reveal their origins. Look for Dullah’s portraits, and the Mutual Attraction by Abdul Aziz, where the two young figures seem to be leaning out of their frames. A photo gallery features prints of dance and everyday life in Bali in the 1930s.
The Senawati Gallery of Art By Women, on Jalan Sriwedari, off Jalan Rayal in Ubud, houses a very worthwhile collection of paintings by local and expatriate women artists, as well as a gallery that promotes the sale of their work. Other museums and galleries to visit include those of long-term Ubud residents Antonio Blanco, a Catalan artist noted for erotic subject matter, and Hans Snel, a Dutch artist whose highly praised work is displayed in a gallery adjacent to his guesthouse.
Near Ubud: West and North
At the western end of town, an old suspension bridge and a new road bridge cross the Campuhan river. On the north side of the ravine is the temple of Pura Gunung Labah, which may date from the 8th century a.d., possibly making it one of Bali’s earliest. Shrouded in dense vegetation, it overlooks Goa Raksasa, a cave named after the evil giant who is said to have dwelt there.
Just north of the Campuhan bridges, the Tjampuhan Hotel (the same place-name but with the old spelling) stands where Walter Spies (see page 53) came to live in the 1930s. Across the road and up the hill, stone stairs lead to rice paddies and the track to the home of the Young Artists group at Penestanan. At neighboring Sayan, Westerners have built their homes overlooking the rice terraces and spectacular Ayung gorge.
The road from Campuhan past the Museum Neka leads to the town of Kedewatan, where the most luxurious hotels in the area compete to offer similarly stunning views into the Ayung valley. Beyond Payangan, the little-used road wends its way through scenic countryside all the way to Batur (see page 59).
Try to be in Petulu, 6 km (4 miles) north of Ubud, by about 4pm. Every evening at sunset, thousands of white herons return from a day’s fishing in the rice paddies and glide in to nest in the trees.
Southern Outskirts of Ubud
Off the main street near the information office, Monkey Forest Road heads south past lines of homestays and restaurants. After almost 2 km (just over 1 mile) it reaches a small area of old trees, the home of hordes of grey monkeys. Don’t provoke them — a bite can be dangerous. A fee is charged for the doubtful privilege of a visit — making monkeys out of the tourists has been a local source of amusement and income for years.
Peliatan is known for its dances and gamelan music as well as painting and carving — “parasite carvings” (see page 92) are a recent specialty. The Agung Rai Gallery sells some of the best and most expensive modern Balinese paintings.
At Pengosekan, just a short walk farther south, the painters concentrate on images of birds and butterflies in idyllic “Garden of Eden” landscapes. The recently opened Agung Rai Museum of Art displays Indonesian and European paintings.
East of Ubud
Two of Bali’s most impressive archaeological finds are concentrated in two small areas: one close to Ubud, another roughly 13 km (8 miles) away to the northeast, near Tampaksiring.
Goa Gajah
Closest to Ubud is the so-called Elephant Cave, cut into the hillside below the road just east of Teges. It probably dates from the 10th century a.d., but the whole site was buried beneath volcanic ash and mud. When the cave mouth was rediscovered in 1923, the huge face carved around it was mistaken for an elephant’s head and the name has stuck. Inside the mouth, a passage measuring 12 m (39 ft) long leads to a plain transverse chamber reaching 31⁄2 m (11 ft) wide, 20 m (66 ft) long, and high enough to stand up in. Dim electric lights reveal niches at either end that are believed to have housed shrines: One now holds a damaged statue of the elephant-headed god, Ganesha.
Later excavations revealed an 11th-century bathing pool on the terrace in front of the cave, with fountains in the shape of seven nymphs representing India’s great rivers. A fairly steep scramble down the bank behind the pool leads to another cave with two ancient statues of Buddha.
Yeh Pulu
Less than1 km (about 1⁄2 mile) east of Goa Gajah, look for a signpost to Yeh Pulu pointing to the right, down a quiet village street. The road soon ends, but a footpath continues through rice terraces and past the local bathing pool. The rock face on the left of the path is carved in a series of scenes about 25 m (82 ft) long. Quite different from the usual Balinese style, the simple, bold, and naturalistic figures include a prince and his servants out hunting wild boar with a woman clinging to his horse. The carvings probably date from the 14th century but, like Goa Gajah, the site was covered by mud and only excavated in the 1920s.
Pejeng
North of Yeh Pulu and the village of Bedulu, the archaeological museum Parbakala Gedong Arca brings together the neolithic and Bronze Age relics unearthed in this area, which include stone sarcophagi dating from about 500 b.c. The exhibits are neither well-organized nor labeled but, as this is also a study center, there may be someone knowledgeable on hand.
Several temples in the area are worth a short stop. Pura Kebo Edan has a statue of the giant Bima, standing 3 m (10 ft) tall, with multiple penises, trampling on a copulating couple. A collection of ancient statuary includes some dating from the 13th century. There’s more fine carved stonework at the 14th-century Pura Pusering Jagat, known as the “Temple of the Navel of the World.” During a full moon, childless couples pray at the stone shrines depicting lingam and yoni (male and female genitalia).
At Pura Penataran Sasih, a great hollow bronze drum cast in one piece and 11⁄2 m (5 ft) across, stands high up on a platform at the back of the temple. The style is typical of the Dong-son Bronze Age dynasty of Vietnam dating from about 300 b.c., but whether it was brought to Bali or made here is unknown. According to legend, it fell from the sky. A section was broken out of it at some time, and only the geometric patterns are visible from ground level: Decoration not in view includes faces with staring eyes.
Tampaksiring
To the north of Pejeng Region the road climbs for 10 km (6 miles) to Tampaksiring, where craft shops compete to entice tour buses to stop on their way to Batur (see page 59). In the middle of the long village street, look for a sign pointing down a road to the right to Gunung Kawi, 11⁄2 km (1 mile) away. A long flight of steps descends into a valley lined by stalls selling bright sarongs, carved coconut shells, and cold drinks. The drink vendors can afford to be patient — hot, thirsty, and tired tourists toiling back up are a captive market.
At the bottom of the steps, a narrow passage and gateway cut through solid rock opens out suddenly into the temple area. To the left, two rows of hollows have been carved out of the cliffs on either side of a ravine. Legend says they’re the marks of a giant’s fingernails, scraped out in a single night. (The head of the giant, Kebo Iwa, is carved out in stone at Pura Gadun, in Blahbatuh; see page 40.) The rock Denpasar was sculpted so as to leave a candi (shrine) measuring 7 m (23 ft) in each hollow, believed to be some 11th-century memorials to a royal dynasty.
Not to be confused with the place Gunung Kawi, the temple of Pura Gunung Kawi is some way away in the village of Sebatu, and often many visitors asking for directions have been sent there by mistake. In fact, it is worth the trip, partly for the sights and scenery en route. From Tampaksiring the road opposite the turning to Tirta Empul twists through villages that specialize in the mass production of woodcarvings. You’ll see rows of identical ducks alongside armies of chess pieces and perhaps some original new design of statue that hasn’t yet hit any of the shops. Two successive right turns, signposted, lead to Sebatu and Pura Gunung Kawi, a brightly painted temple with sacred springs feeding water to ponds and bathing pools.
At the northern edge of Tampaksiring, the road forks right. Immediately on the left is the temple and holy spring of Tirta Empul, source of the river that flows through Gunung Kawi. It is believed to have been created by the god Indra to revive his ailing army, whose men had been poisoned by an enemy. He pierced the earth, and out flowed amerta, the water of immortality. It is still thought by many to have healing powers, and the pools here are often thronged with those seeking purification. The temple is situated against a wooded hillside, in contrast to the nearby souvenir shops, which are some of the less attractive in Bali. High above the temple stands a government rest house built by the Dutch and turned into a palace by the late President Sukarno, who they say kept a telescope trained on the women’s pool.
Eastern Bali
In contrast to the softer south, the mountain slopes here reach down to the sea, creating rocky shores and small bays. Where there is sand, it’s grey, the result of the weathering of old lava. The rajas once ruled most of Bali from their capitals at Karangasem (now Amlapura) and Klungkung. Approaching from the south, the road passes through busy Gianyar, also a former raja’s capital. The brick palace in the center of town is still the home of his family and is not open to the public. Weaving is the main industry, and a number of small factories and some workshops along the road from Ubud are open for tours. Here you can learn about making ikat (endek in Balinese), using threads that have been tie-dyed in bunches before weaving.
Klungkung
The dynasty founded by Batu Renggong, the first Dewa Agung, was paramount in Bali for 300 years, first ruling from Gelgel and then moving to Klungkung in 1710. Standing high above the modern town where its broad main streets cross, the Kerta Gosa Pavilion, the Royal Hall of Justice, was built at the time of the move and continued as a courthouse under the Dutch. The ceiling is covered in vivid paintings in a style unique to the region. Although the paintings have frequently been restored and in fact entirely replaced more than once, the work has always been done by artists from the nearby village of Kamasan, and it is likely that the designs resemble the 18th-century originals. Many of the panels relate tales from Balinese mythology, but visitors’ eyes tend to be drawn to the series depicting the dreadful punishments awaiting evildoers in the kingdom of the dead.
Important guests were received in the exquisite Bale Kambang, a pavilion surrounded by water to give the appearance that it is floating among the water lilies. Its painted ceiling illustrates more lyrical stories from Balinese legend. Facing the palace garden, a small museum has been opened in one of the old buildings. Some of the most impressive exhibits are the photographs of the rajas and their families, dating from before 1908, the year of the puputan which took place in the open space in front of the palace and marked the end of effective resistance to the Dutch (see page 19). Across the street, a monument erected in 1992 commemorates that tragic event.
West of Klungkung, a narrow lane leads to the village of Tihingan, one of only two places in Bali where the gongs for gamelan orchestras are made. The other is Sawan, near the north coast (see page 65). In any of the bronze foundries, you’ll find the same medieval scene, with a boy apprentice pumping the bellows to keep a charcoal fire blazing while the smiths hammer away. Hanging mats keep the place in semi-darkness so that the workers can judge the temperature of the glowing metal by its color. In the village of Banda, about 5 km (3 miles) south of Tihinga, a museum celebrates one of Bali’s most successful contemporary artists, Nyoman Gunarsa.
On the eastern periphery of Klungkung a bridge crosses the gorge of the Unda river, which is used as a big communal bath every afternoon as the sun goes down. Ash, mud, and floods from the 1963 eruption of Gunung Agung devastated this part of the island, and the effects are still felt today, as its agriculture has not yet fully recovered from the disaster.
Goa Lawah
Considered one of Bali’s oddities, the Bat Cave and its temple are hemmed in by souvenir stalls, hawkers, sash dispensers, donation collectors, ticket sellers, and, for most of the day, parked tour buses. Once past this obstacle course, you’ll see the cave mouth and a seething mass of leathery bats clinging to the rock face, here and there dropping off, circling and then coming in to land again. They can’t all find a place in the cave, so some hang outside in broad daylight. If you are staying anywhere near, perhaps at Candi Dasa, you might time a visit here for dusk. That’s when the bat colony pours out of the cave like a liquid black stream and wheels away into the distance to feed on the myriad insects of the tropical night.
On the foreshore near the Bat Cave, a few people scratch a living by harvesting salt. Seawater is first concentrated by solar evaporation in shallow pans and then transferred to the hollowed-out halves of palm tree trunks to crystallize.
Padangbai
This little port stands on Bali’s only natural harbor with an unobstructed approach from the sea. The first Dutch ships dropped anchor in the sheltered bay in 1597 (see page 14). Today’s cruise ships usually do the same, and their passengers are ferried ashore for sightseeing excursions.
A regular passenger and car ferry makes two or three sailings per day to Lombok. The voyage can be rough and may take longer than the scheduled four hours. Many visitors opt for the newer, faster, and more expensive twin-hull Mabua Express ferry from Benoa Port (see page 75), but backpackers and most locals prefer this traditional, albeit less comfortable, route. Fishermen land their catches at Padangbai’s small busy beach, which is jammed with boats, just to the north of the main jetty. Facing it at the far end are two or three simple but adequate cottage-style homestays. You can arrange diving or fishing trips here, but the water in the bay looks too dirty for swimming.
Beyond Padangbai comes the broad sweep of Amuk Bay, site of a controversial new oil terminal. At its eastern end, after the coast road crosses an iron bridge, a track leads down to the sea at the village of Buitan, also called Balina Beach, the name of its main hotel and SCUBA-diving center.
Candi Dasa (pronounced Chandi Dasa)
Cottage-style hotels and homestays began to be built along this stretch of coast in the late 1970s. People in search of more quiet than Kuta and lower prices than at Sanur and Nusa Dua liked the easy-going atmosphere, the beach of grey volcanic sand, and snorkeling over the reef. But in the 1980s the coral reef was mined and destroyed for cement to build new hotels, the beach it had protected was washed away, and the shoreline quickly eroded. In an attempt to stem the loss, ugly jetties were built, and a network of concrete blocks was planted into the sea. The erosion has been stopped, but probably not reversed. There’s still some dark sand exposed during low tide, mixed with broken coral, so it is advisable to wear shoes if you want to swim in the sea. If nothing else, the beach erosion has helped to keep Candi Dasa a quiet place, well-stocked with hotel rooms; it has also halted plans that would have led to even more development.
In an island of varied villages, Tenganan is one of the strangest. From Candi Dasa, it is 4 km (21⁄2 miles) inland, on the lower slopes of Mount Agung. The residents there are Bali Aga, “original Balinese,” and many of their customs and rituals date from the animist days before the advent of Hinduism. They have their own music and dances. Marriage outside the community used to be forbidden, and the population shrank. Once the rule was eased, the downsizing trend halted.
The rough road from the coast terminates at a parking area outside the village walls, where you are asked to make a donation before entering. One long street climbs up from the main gateway, past a succession of open-sided pavilions and up cobblestoned terraces. By day it becomes a continuous market, with some unusually chatty, cheerful shopkeepers. The weavers of Tenganan are well known for making grinsing (or gerinsing) cloth, a double ikat (see page 93) in which both warp and weft threads are tie-dyed in bunches before weaving. The intricacy of the process of lining up the patterns can only be imagined: It takes months to make a sarong and prices are high. You’ll see a lot of cloth that is fake — the genuine item is rare.
Amlapura (Karangasem)
North of Candi Dasa the road turns inland, crossing hills and fertile valleys, with views of the volcanic cone of Gunung Agung. Amlapura was known as Karangasem before 1963. That is still the name of the region, but its capital wanted to erase the memory of Mount Agung’s eruption and perhaps to confuse any evil spirits who might still want to destroy the town of Karangasem. Part of the raja’s palace and gardens were damaged then, but there has been some restoration, and one of three palaces at the site, Puri Agung, is open to visitors.
The last raja fancied his talents as an architect and built two rather elaborate water gardens. Ujung on the coast was built in the 1920s. It was devastated in 1963 but some of its gateways, pavilions, terraces, and its weed-choked pool still stand, forlorn and deserted, like the relics of some far more ancient civilization.
From Ujung, a coast road skirts the eastern tip of Bali, but it is potholed and crosses many river beds, usually dry but impassable after heavy rain. The scenery is not varied enough to make the bumpy two-hour ride to Amed worth the effort. There’s a much more beautiful alternative — taking in the raja’s second fancy creation, the water playground in the hills at Tirtagangga 5 km (3 miles) northwest of Amlapura. This water garden was only established after World War II, and despite being nearer to the eruption, it was spared serious damage. You can cool off in the spring-fed pools built for the raja’s family, and there are places to stay if you want to enjoy the refreshing air and magical dawn light. One losmen is inside the water garden area.
On the road north, a right fork at Culik leads eastwards to Amed, a quiet fishing and salt-panning village spread out along several kilometers of beaches. Here, many losmen (small, family-run hotels), as well as a few pleasant middle-range hotels have sprung up to serve travelers who come to snorkel and dive in the clear waters.
The Mountains
To the Balinese, the mountains are the abode of the gods, the source of the rivers that water their crops, and of occasional outbursts of destructive fury. The highest of them are active or dormant volcanoes: Gunung Batur simmers more or less continuously while Gunung Agung erupts violently once every few hundred years. When you set out for the higher altitudes, be prepared for cold with damp mists, or for scorching sunshine.Either condition is possible. Many tour companies run day trips, sometimes combining visits to Besakih (see page 60) and Penelokan (see page 58). This is an easy way to see the views, but you will arrive at the same time as hundreds of others. With more and more accommodations opening, think about overnighting at a mountain resort, or an inexpensive guest house. If you plan to climb one of the peaks — not a mountaineering feat but a few hours’ or a full day’s hill walking and scrambling over rocks — it’s essential to stay nearby and start early.
Bangli
On the main road from the south towards Mount Batur, the chief town of the former rajadom of Bangli looks like a nursery for gorgeous flowering shrubs. It comes alive every three days for the big morning market in the central square. To the south of town on the Gianyar road is Pura Dalem Penuggekan, a typical example of the many temples for the dead: Carved friezes show the nightmarish tortures awaiting sinners in the after-life. On the northern outskirts, the chief temple of the former rajadom of Bangli, Pura Kehen, comprises the typical three courtyards, here particularly large and linked by steep flights of steps. The walls of the first were once encrusted with inset porcelain plates, but many have been broken or lost.
Around Lake Batur
The roads from the south climb out of the rice paddies of the lowlands, through coffee plantations and orchards at around 600 m (2,000 ft), eventually thinning out into open pasture. A band of rainforest blocks out the view until you emerge at 1,300 m (4,300 ft) on the narrow rim of a huge crater (technically a caldera or collapsed volcano), 11 km (7 miles) across and about 200 m (660 ft) deep. The pastel blue crescent of Lake Batur takes up the eastern third of the great bowl, and out of the center grows Mount Batur itself, bare rock streaked with black traces of old lava flows. Penelokan (“Place for Looking”) can offer a great panorama, but it’s an ugly village, at its worst when enveloped in a cold wet fog and you can’t see the view anyway. The peddlers here are the most aggressive in Bali: Balinese travelers have complained about them since long before the arrival of tourists. The height of confusion comes at lunchtime when the tour buses disgorge their passengers at the restaurants especially built for them. Avoid the buffets which are often not fresh and notorious for making visitors ill.
There’s an even better view into the caldera, and no fuss, from the road a short way east from Penelokan (heading towards Suter and Rendang, the turnoff for Besakih).
Mount Batur went into an active phase in August 1994, blowing huge puffs of smoke and rocky debris from a new vent on its northwest face. As a result, some of the tracks there were cut. In addition, unsavory locals harass climbers. Only hikes accompanied by guides from the local guiding cooperative are advised. Travel agencies elsewhere on Bali that specialize in nature/active tours can make arrangements for hikers. A steep zig-zag road winds down to the lake: Bemos and motorcycle jockeys are ready to take anyone without transport to Kedisan, a lakeside village where you will find a few modest homestays.
On the lake’s western shore, reached by a road winding through lava fields, lies Tirta, or Toyabungkah, known for its hot springs. They are believed to be both holy and highly therapeutic, and are channeled into a public pool — as hot as a steaming bath. You can also enjoy the thermal waters at a new spa complex in the center of town. A scattering of homestays and rudimentary eating places has now been dwarfed by a big hotel resembling a Chinese palace, with its own fiberglass “rock” pool fed by hot spring water.
Tirta makes a good base for the two-hour climb (longer in the heat of the day) to the summit of Mount Batur. It’s best to start before dawn: Some of the guided parties set out as early as 3:30am. Guides, available locally or at Kintamani, can suggest various longer hikes.
Batur was rebuilt in its present position on the crater rim after a 1926 eruption buried the old site down below. One long street is lined with ugly concrete houses and sheds, relieved by Pura Ulun Danu, the new temple of black volcanic stone started in 1927 that is still being extended. Kintamani, adjoining Batur, is brightened up only by its market, on Monday and Thursday mornings.
The road follows on to the north coast, passing close to Gunung Peninsulan, which is 1,745 m (5,725 ft) high. A flight of 350 steps takes you to the summit, crowned by Bali’s tallest temple, Pura Tegeh Koripan. Traces of stone structures date back to prehistoric times. At the very top, a plain walled enclosure holds a collection of beautiful stone statues and panels portraying gods and rulers, some dating from the 10th and 11th centuries. On a clear day, the views alone of the mountains and north coast make the rather strenuous climb well worth it.
Gunung Agung
Bali’s highest peak, at 3,142 m (10,309 ft), is also its holiest. Still active today, the volcano erupted in 1963 (see page 23) and poured red-hot lava down its slopes, setting villages ablaze. Ash covered much of northern Bali, ruining crops, blocking up the rivers, and causing mudslides that took many lives.
Besakih, known as Bali’s “mother temple,” stands high up on the southwestern slopes of the mountain. From a distance you’ll see a forest of black thatched, pagoda-like meru roofs rising in tiers above the rice terraces, with the volcano as a backdrop. This was probably even a holy place in the pre-Hindu era. During more than a thousand years it has evolved into a complex of nearly 200 temples and shrines. The most important group stands in the middle, representing the three manifestations of God: Brahma (right, with great red banners), Shiva (center, with big white banners), and Vishnu (left, with large black banners). Most tour buses arrive at mid-morning and mid-afternoon, but no matter when you visit, you will be harassed by hawkers, goaded by guides, and ordered by gatekeepers to make donations. Local people don’t see this commercial activity as inappropriate; to them, a temple isn’t a holy place until the gods are present, and that only happens during a religious ceremony.
There are also guides offering their services to those who want to climb Gunung Agung; only the fit and well-prepared should attempt it, and only in the dry season. Even then, the expedition can take as long as twelve hours and involves a lot of slipping and sliding on stony slopes.
Bedugul
The direct road from Denpasar to Singaraja traverses some of Bali’s prettiest hill country, with views of dormant volcanoes and three crater lakes. At about 1,300 m (4,300 ft), the spring-like climate has made Bedugul — the village has lent its name to the whole area — into something of a mountain retreat. The Botanic Gardens and orchid nurseries are both at their best in the rainy season and make an agreeable place for a stroll or a picnic at any time. Bukit Mungsu market nearby is bright with flowers and superb fruit, especially the local passion fruit. There are watersports facilities on Lake Bratan, while the lake-side temple of Ulu Danu at Candikuning ranks as one of Bali’s most photogenic. (Its final courtyard is right out in the lake.)
Pancasari has a variety of attractive cottage-style hotels, and the views of the mountainside towering above Lake Buyan in the distance, seen from the championship golf course at Bali Handara Kosaido Country Club, are superb. The road winds its way up to the old crater rim above the lake. You will find monkeys congregating wherever you decide to stop and look at the view. Once you’ve reached the top there’s a choice of routes to the north coast. The main road descends by way of bamboo forest and banana plantations direct to Singaraja. Alternatively, you can take the little-used back road past lakes Buyan and Tamblingan and down through Munduk to Seririt (see page 66). The remote hillside villages specialize in growing cloves, and you will see (as well as smell) carpets of the pink buds laid out by the roadside to dry. Munduk is home to an excellent eco-resort, Puri Lumbung (see page 134), and is an excellent base for exploring this beautiful region. It organizes many activities and coordinates inexpensive homestays with local families. A new attraction in Munduk is the so-called Pyramid Plastic, built from melted plastic waste as a reminder of the environmental damage that tourism and industry is causing in Bali. The Munduk waterfalls are spectacular, and accessible at the end of a manageable hike.
The North Coast
Before the days of flying, most visitors to Bali arrived in the north. The first Dutch military expeditions disembarked near Singaraja, which became the island’s administrative capital and the colony’s chief port. Now, almost everyone arrives and stays in southern Bali, and only a fraction of them ever take a trip to the north coast, although the journey takes less than two hours by road.
There is quite a contrast between the south and north. It is hotter and drier in the north and far less densely populated. The proportion of Muslims is higher; some of the people are descended from traders and immigrants from other islands. There is only a narrow strip of flat land between the mountains and the sea, or in some places none at all. Cactus plants are as common as palm trees and the small area of rice depends on irrigation. The region is also dotted with Bali’s local vineyards.
Lacking an airport, losing the status of capital, and denied any substantial cash flow from tourism, Singaraja hasn’t expanded as much as Denpasar. As can be expected from the former capital, colonial buildings predominate in the port area of Bululeng (the original town that gave its name to the northern rajadom) and the old center. But there’s little to detain a visitor and no attractive accommodations. For that, you have to travel a short distance out of town.
Lovina Beach
The beaches west of Singaraja began to attract escapist travelers in the early 1970s, and simple and fairly inexpensive accommodations were built to house them. Slowly the number of visitors grew and the small homestays turned themselves into larger bungalow-type hotels. Today, tour groups come for short stays and, as everywhere in Bali, standards and prices are steadily going up. Actually, Lovina is not one village but a string of small ones, starting 6 km (4 miles) west of Singaraja and continuing for 10 km (6 miles) up the coast road. Shops, restaurants, and moneychangers are scattered along the busy stretch.
The beach itself is shallow and gently shelving, making it an ideal place for small children. There is calm water on the inside of the reef and good snorkeling over it. Lovina’s dark sand is less inviting than the white or golden variety at the southern resorts, and gets too hot to walk on in bare feet in the middle of the day.
Dawn and dusk are the best times for the beach. Dolphins frolic offshore almost every morning — boats will take you out to see them up close. At sunset, the fishermen prepare for a night’s work aided by batteries of lights on the boats to attract their catch, while local farmers herd their goats or lead their water buffaloes along the sand. If you’re lucky, you may be around to see the races between beautifully decorated pairs of water buffaloes pulling a sled around a track in the fields. Ask if any are scheduled: They follow the Balinese calendar.
East of Singaraja
Once clear of the outskirts of the town, at Sangsit, look for a turn off the main road (there will be signs), heading towards the sea to the beautiful temple of Pura Beji. Dedicated to the rice goddess, this is the most elaborate and ornate temple in the north. It’s decorated with intricate carvings of flowers, animals, gods, and monsters.
The road that leads inland for 5 km (3 miles) will take you to Jagaraga, a village fortified by Jelantik against the Dutch colonialists in 1848 and 1849. The small temple on the left-hand side just before you reach the village center has some of the strangest carved stone decoration in Bali — and some of the most secular, dating from the 1930s. In one panel, an open-top car carries two European passengers being held up by a man with a gun, while others point up at some airplanes — one of them crashing into the sea. Jagaraga is also famous for its dance troupes, which can sometimes be seen in performance here.
About 2 km (11⁄2 miles) to the south of Jagaraga, Sawan has a couple of gongmakers’ workshops that supply gamelan orchestras: The only other village where the craft is practiced is in Tihingan situated near Klungkung (see page 51). Methods are utterly traditional. Bronze is made by melting copper and tin together by heating them in an ancient pot over red-hot charcoal, or else old and broken instruments are recycled. The molten bronze is poured into stone molds to form rough discs, which are then hammered and heated and hammered again until they finally take the shape of gongs. It’s essential that the craftsmen who make the gongs have a musical ear so that they are able to hear whether the sets of gongs are suitable for the five-tone Balinese scale. The correct note is ensured by adjusting the mass of metal and its distribution over the surface of the gong.
Back on the coast road at Kumbutambahan, in the temple of Pura Maduwe Karang, you’ll find a famous carving of a man on a bicycle, its wheels taking the form of flowers. To the east, at Air Sanih (or Yeh Sanih), you can join local people bathing in the pools fed by a natural spring and shaded by the palm trees. A few simple tourist bungalows have been built at the site.
The often empty coast road continues past Tianyar to Tulamben, renowned for superb snorkeling and diving on the submerged wreck of the US cargo ship Liberty, which sank here during World War II.
For information on the eastern tip of Bali, see page 50.
West of Singaraja
At Dencarik, to the west of Lovina, the road inland climbs a steep hill before reaching the orange-roofed building of the Buddhist monastery known as Brahma Vihara Arama. Nearby, at Banjar Tega, the warm springs (signposted Air Panas) have been piped into a public swimming pool, attractively shaded. There is a smaller and hotter pool, a natural shower, and reasonably clean changing rooms.
The market town of Seririt is a busy junction with one road leading across the island to Tabenan and eventually to Denpasar and the other following the coastal route westward. Celukanbawang Bay, 12 km (7 miles) from Seririt, is likely to become an important port if development plans are realized. So far there’s a wharf, but rarely a ship to be seen. After about another 25 km (16 miles) of sparsely settled shoreline, you’ll come to Pura Pulaki, an important temple recently rebuilt out of grim, black volcanic stone and frequented by hundreds of monkeys. Traces remain of older parts of the temple carved out of the cliff face, a natural aggregate of volcanic debris which quickly wears away — the pebbly beach here is the result.
A large part of this end of the island has been designated as the Bali Barat National Park, and the road crosses a small section of it, an area covered with woodland and scrub, with plenty of grey monkeys. The park encompasses and protects 760 sq km of true rainforests, mangrove swamps, and woodlands, and is home to over 100 species of birds (including the endangered Bali Starling), as well as many indigenous animals. Visitors to the park must be accompanied by an official park guide, and must be issued a park permit. Both guides and permits can be arranged for by travel agencies, or at the National Park Headquarters, 3 km (2 miles) south of Gillimanuk.
Labuhan Lalang, on Terima Bay at the western tip of Bali, is the base for boats which make the half-hour trip to Pulau Menjangan (Deer Island). Mainly scrub-covered and only 3 km (2 miles) long, Labuhan Lalang’s coral reefs and clear water are highly rated among SCUBA divers.
Across the western tip of Bali, mangrove swamps surround Gillimanuk, not much more than one wide street, a few homestays, and the ferry terminal for Java. The silhouette of Gunung Merapi, still an active volcano, is often visible in the mist across the water.
West of Denpasar
Fertile land and high rainfall have brought prosperity to this part of Bali, without the debatable benefits of tourism. In the main towns, you’ll find more computer suppliers than souvenir shops. There is very little in the way of accommodations and not much choice when it comes to eating, but the region is rewarding to explore.
Mengwi
Just to the northwest of Kapal, there’s a major road junction. The right fork goes north to Bedugul (see page 61) and Singaraja, but you only have to go 3 km (2 miles) to reach the town of Mengwi, where you’ll find one of Bali’s most beautiful temples.
Pura Taman Ayun, near the center of town, was built in 1634 and renovated in 1937. It’s notable for its double moat. Every morning as well as late in the afternoon, people use the wide outer moat for washing themselves and their clothes. You can circle the outside of the wall that surrounds the inner compound and look in at the cluster of merus (pagoda-like, multi-roofed towers). Meru towers may only contain an odd number of roofs.
Once the daily influx of visitors begins, about mid-morning, an outrigger boat shuttles people across the outer moat to a craft display and shop.
North of Mengwi (signposted, as it is situated off the main road) is Sangeh Monkey Forest, a grove of tall nutmeg trees protected for their religious significance and also as a nature preserve. The residents engage in their business, swinging from branch to branch, and they flock to Bukit Sari, the temple, while hawkers swarm around the visitors. Remember to hide all portable possessions from the monkeys.
Those in the mood to explore should head north from Sangeh, where the road climbs into lovely countryside and rarely visited villages. Eventually it peters out on the slopes of Mount Catur.
Marga
In November 1946, Ngurah Rai and his men were trapped by Dutch forces close to this village, 12 km (7 miles) northwest of Mengwi. In an heroic but hopeless last stand, they were all killed (see page 21). The battlefield just north of the village is now marked by several memorials. A statue depicts a group of defiant freedom fighters. The Margarana monument is a tall candi (or shrine) whose columns carry the symbols of pancasila, the five principles of the Indonesian state (see page 37). Carved panels record Ngurah Rai’s message to the Dutch, demanding their withdrawal and ending with the words “Sekali Merdeka, Tetap Merdeka” (“Freedom now, freedom forever”). Beyond the shrine is a field of memorials to all those who died for the cause of Bali’s independence — 1,372 men and women in total. It looks like a cemetery, but these are not actual graves. The museum at the site is worth a visit for the photographs and other relics of the campaign.
If you have reliable transport and a good road map, head farther north into the hills for 16 km (10 miles) along little-used roads to Pura Luhur, the chief temple of the rajadom of Tabenan, beautifully set amid lush forest. Despite its ancient appearance, this is a modern reconstruction — lichens grow quickly in the high humidity.
Tanah Lot
Practically every brochure for Bali shows this exotic sea temple on its rocky islet, often silhouetted against the setting sun. Inevitably, tour buses converge here in late afternoon so everyone can take that same picture. It is 10 km (6 miles) down a narrow side road from Kediri to the coast, and there can be a long procession of traffic. You might like to plan a dawn visit instead, avoiding at least some of the hawkers who congregate later in the day. Tanah Lot is believed to have been founded in the 16th century by the Javanese priest Nirarta, who dedicated it to the sea god. Now the sea threatens to undermine the rock on which it stands, and concrete breakwaters have been positioned to hold back the waves. Nothing, however, is done to hold back the commercial tide. Ever more souvenir stands and food stalls cluster as near as they can get, and the nearby coast is being developed as a huge, and controversial, resort complex.
But the former raja’s capital of Tabanan goes about its business with few concessions to tourism. The Dutch burned the palace here in 1906, so the heart of the old town is gone, but Tabanan remains a center for music and dance. Kerambitan, just off the main road to the southwest, is a pretty town with three palaces, still the property of a princely family. Today, one of the palaces, the Puri Anyar, acts as an aristocratic type of homestay, where guests can experience the traditional hospitality that might have been extended to honored visitors in the past.
The main road reaches the coast at Soka, with two small beaches and occasional good surfing waves. Balian Beach is similar, with informal bungalow accommodations. Experienced surfers head west to Medewi, where simple but pleasant new cottage-style hotels face a mostly rocky shore with a small beach.
The sea temple at Rambut Siwi, off the main road, stands on a black rock overlooking the sandy shore. Some attractive buildings and a profusion of flowering trees crown the cliff top.
Negara, 23 km (14 miles) farther west, is known for its water-buffalo racing. The season traditionally ran in September and October, and the championships still take place then, but races for the benefit of visitors are now staged year-round on a track at Perencak, outside Negara. Tour agencies offer excursions from Kuta, Sanur, and the other resorts.
Lombok
Bali’s smaller neighbor to the east, easily visible on a clear day, is at times billed by hopeful promoters and developers as “the next Bali.” That, however, paints a misleading picture; the scenery, the people, their culture, and religion are all too different. There is less rainfall and the rainy season is prone to fail, leaving most of the island parched and dusty. It may be only a 20-minute flight away, or a few hours by ferry, but it’s another world.
Lombok is roughly 70 km (43 miles) from north to south and the same distance across. Its one great mountain, Gunung Rinjani, is the second highest in Indonesia and dominates the northern half of the island. Most people live on the east-west plain across the middle, fertile after rain and sun-scorched by the dry season. The far south is arid, with low, scrub-covered hills and eroded valleys, rather like some parts of northern Australia.
From a study of their plants and animals, the 19th-century naturalist Alfred Wallace divided the Indonesian islands into a western group, regarded as part of southeast Asia, and an eastern group, which belonged geographically to Australia/Oceania. He then drew the line between the two through the deep Lombok Strait separating Bali and Lombok. The division is not quite so clear-cut now, but the basic principle of the “Wallace Line” is still accepted.
For many years, the island of Lombok was the domain of the Sasaks, a people who had come from the Asian mainland by way of Java and Bali. They were animists who revered the spirits they believed to be in the living things and inanimate objects around them. As Islam spread through the islands (apart from Bali) some people in Lombok adopted it in a version of their own, Wektu Telu, which retained many influences of animism. Today, a majority of people are more or less orthodox Muslims: As you travel about Lombok, you will notice many exotic country mosques with their domes and arabesque arcades, as well as the growing numbers of young women who wear robes and headscarves.
The first succession of Balinese invasions started in the 16th century. For a while, most of Lombok was governed from Karangasem in Bali. Later, the Balinese province in Lombok became independent, and even attempted to capture Karangasem! The beliefs of the animist-Hindu Balinese and the animist-Muslim Sasaks, however, were not always in conflict; there was a lot of intermarriage. Today the Balinese minority mainly lives in west Lombok and is influential in commerce and tourism.
At the end of the 19th century, the Dutch took advantage of the conflict raging between the Sasaks and Balinese, joining in on the Sasak side and then taking complete control. After the Japanese occupied Lombok during World War II, the Dutch briefly returned, only to depart again when Indonesia gained independence.
Where to Go in Lombok
You won’t find many notable temples, palaces, or other historic sites, but visitors to Lombok are rewarded with the pleasures of the island’s relaxed, rustic ways: the sight of water buffaloes and their calves; hens, and chicks dashing across your path; sudden views of blue sea dotted with sails. Most visitors stay in the hotels alongside Senggigi beach, but the far south and the offshore Gilis also have good beaches and snorkeling.
Some villages are renowned for their traditional crafts — intricate basketry, weaving, pottery, or carving. A few of them have realized the chances of increasing the flow of tourist traffic, setting up stalls by the roadside or getting younger members of the family to bring visitors to have a look at the work going on. For an insight into village life, it’s worth inquiring about the timing of local market days, held in the mornings once or twice a week in many towns and villages. Roads are refreshingly free of traffic; a prime source of motive power is still the tiny ponies pulling unlikely loads in two-wheeled traps.
Ampenan, Mataram, and Cakranegara
Flights land at Selaparang Airport, on the northern outskirts of Lombok’s provincial capital, Mataram. The ferries from Bali dock at Lembar, 10 km (6 miles) to the south. One of the most pleasant, exotic ways to arrive in Lombok is on the Bounty and Mabua Express ferries. Faster and more comfortable (and more expensive) than the older ferries from Padangbai, these leave Bali from Benoa Harbor and arrive at Bangsal, close to the Gilli Islands. Small craft take you from the ferries to the beach at Bangsal or to the Gilli Islands, avoiding the grungy port at Lembar, and introducing you immediately to the more idyllic parts of Lombok.
Not so long ago, the old port of Ampenan, the administrative center of Mataram, and the commercial district of Cakranegara were completely separate. Now they have joined up in an urban sprawl, home to a quarter of a million people. A long, broad avenue lined by an improbable number of government buildings links them all and then continues to Sweta, the island’s transport hub.
The port area of Ampenan is crumbling and mostly disused, but the narrow streets of the old town are livelier. Many of the people here are descended from Arab traders — noticeable in the well-attended mosques and the cries of the muezzins in their minarets calling the faithful to prayer. A variety of so-called “antique” shops sell the odd interesting relic amid piles of dusty junk. The museum, which is south of the center on Jalan Banjar Tilar Negara, gives an overview of the island’s culture, as well as its unique and volatile ecology.
Mataram has the array of government institutions found in every Indonesian provincial capital, as well as tree-lined residential streets with many opulent houses. Cakranegara (or just Cakra — remember that it is pronounced “Chakra”) grew up around the palace of the Balinese rajas. Today it is the commercial center of Lombok. All that remains today of the royal compound is the 1744 Mayura Water Palace, the former meeting hall and court of justice standing in the middle of a lake and reached by a causeway guarded by old cannons. This was the scene of a short-lived Balinese victory over Dutch troops in 1894. The result was reversed only weeks later and the Dutch went on to take over the whole island.
Across the way, Pura Meru, the biggest temple in Lombok, was built in 1720. It has three meru-topped shrines dedicated to Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu. The huge wooden drums in the outer courtyard are sounded, calling the Hindu community to festivals and ceremonies. Just to the east, Sweta buzzes with bemos, buses, and pony-powered cidomos.
Near the Capital
The hillside gardens and lake at Narmada, 10 km (6 miles) east of Cakranegara, were laid out for a 19th-century raja to remind him of Gunung Rinjani and its crater lake when he became too infirm to make the journey to the real mountain. The resemblance is harder to see now that an extra pool and a rectangular swimming pool have been added.
To the north of Narmada at Lingsar, a new spring is said to have burst into life to greet the Balinese when they came to Lombok, and they chose the site for an ecumenical temple intended to bring together people of different religions. The upper compound is reserved for the Hindus. The pool in the Wektu Telu temple is the home of big plump eels, overfed on offerings of boiled eggs which are conveniently sold by vendors at the gate. In another enclosure, the stones wound in white cloth with a yellow sash come from Gunung Rinjani, and Chinese Taoists have put mirrors there to repel the malevolent spirits.
At Suranadi, in the gardens just east of Lingsar, eggs are on the menu again, for the residents of a pond in the Temple of the Holy Eels. You can swim, too, in a separate spring-fed pool or at the old Dutch-built hotel. You can also play golf at the nearby country club.
Monkeys wait by the roadside for handouts as you approach Gunung Pensong, a temple located on top of a rocky outcrop 6 km (4 miles) south of the capital city, Mataram.
Senggigi Beach and the Gilis
Heading north along the coast from Ampenan, look for Pura Segara, a sea temple on the shore near a Chinese cemetery. Close by, villagers gather to haul the fishing boats up the beach and help sort the catch.
Batubolong temple stands perched on a rock — a good lookout point to watch the sunset over the Lombok Strait.
The prime place to stay is around Senggigi Beach, just north of Batubolong. There are accommodations in all sizes strung out along a 10-km (6-mile) strip of coast starting about 8 km (5 miles) north of Ampenan. The beach shelves steeply in places and the coral reef or rocks can be just below the surface, so it’s advisable to wear rubber shoes.
North of Senggigi, the road is like one big giddy roller-coaster that passes some of the lovliest coastline in the Indonesian archipelago. At times it climbs to the cliff tops, and then swoops down into bays. Tiny fishing villages hide among the palm trees and the sea is flecked with bright lateen sails of prahus out after tuna and snapper.
Instead of the coast road, tours from Senggigi and traffic from Mataram sometimes take the inland route via the Pasuk Pass. The two ways meet at Pemenang, where a side road leads to a harbor at Bangsal, the starting point for trips to the Gilis. (Visitors often call them the Gili Islands, but gili means “island.”) Gili Air is nearest, about 3 km (2 miles) away. Next comes Gili Meno and then Gili Trawangan, the farthest out at 8 km (5 miles), and the biggest, although it’s only 21⁄2 km (11⁄2 miles) long.
The Gilis are known for their tranquility, surrounded by sparkling waters. Snorkeling, diving, and sunning are the islands’ chief activities. The boats that ply the route from Bangsal to the islands wait for a full load of 15 to 20 people. In July and August that won’t take long, but out of season you can face a delay unless you pay for the empty places or charter a whole boat (fares are low and fixed).
There’s losmen or bungalow accommodations and a growing number of new, very comfortable small hotels on all three islands, as well as small stores where you can buy basic food, bottled water, and cold drinks. Warungs serve simple meals, mostly the standard Indonesian-style dishes and whatever fresh fish has come in.
Mountain Treks
The silhouette of Gunung Rinjani, 3,726 m (12,200 ft) tall, can be seen from every part of the island, sometimes as a single peak, other times like a line of broken teeth. An active volcano (although there has been no major eruption for a century), the mountain is sacred to both Sasaks and Balinese, who make pilgrimages to its crater lake and hot springs. Recently it has begun to attract foreigners, too, and two villages in the foothills to the south of Bayan are the most popular starting points. Trekking is only safe in the dry season, between June and September.
A rough and narrow road from the middle of Bayan ascends rapidly to Batu Koq, and then continues to nearby Senaru, where it ends. Those wanting to go farther have to walk. The original tiny village has traditional Sasak houses on stilts, surrounded by a wooden fence. Some of the locals have opened homestays along the road, a few with a warung attached. Guides and porters can be hired by the day, and you can buy basic food and rent camping gear, including tents. Take water-purifying tablets, warm clothes, and arrange for a small camping stove.
The main objective of most trekkers is the awesome crater with its big C-shaped lake. It’s a hard day’s walk from Senaru before you reach the rim. The crater itself is 600 m (2,000 ft) deep, and the steep, quite slippery scramble down to the lake takes several hours more. Plan at least a three-day expedition (five if you also want to climb to the top of Rinjani). Those with a lot less time and energy could take a half-hour walk to a beautiful waterfall and pools in the valley below Senaru.
South and East Lombok
As in Bali, different areas specialize in particular crafts, but until recently it all happened behind closed doors. Now the increased tourist traffic has encouraged local people to set up stalls by the roadside, and some of the villages have become quite accustomed to visitors.
At Sukarara, to the south of Mataram, you will find almost every house has an old-fashioned loom for weaving the gorgeous songket fabric, which mingles gold and silver threads with cotton. Penujak, a little farther south, produces pottery, including some trick water pots which can be tipped upside down without spilling the contents. Invert them again and you can pour as normal. The secret of this maneuver is a clever interior partition.
Beleke, east of the market town of Praya, specializes in the craft of intricate basketry. They say that it takes them a week to make a large tablemat. Rambitan is a traditional type of Sasak village with thatch-and-bamboo houses and tall rice barns, but it sees a lot of visitors, and you may well be besieged by souvenir sellers. Sade is similar but smaller. Look for the simple thatch-roofed mosques in both villages.
Farther south, the dry scrub-covered hills slowly give way to semi-desert, with an occasional grove of coconut palms playing the role of oasis. Energetic resurfacing and new construction has transformed the road, but Kuta Beach is still far from resembling its namesake in Bali. Most of the time, its white coral sands are largely deserted. Most accommodations are still in simple cottages, some with a modest restaurant as well. Otherwise you can find a cheap warung. Novotel’s Mandalika Resort, designed to resemble a Sasak Village by the sands of Kuta Beach, is the one upscale vacation complex in the area. Hotels in the area can arrange transportation to some of the beautiful, isolated beaches nearby. The Sunday morning market at the hamlet of Kuta is lively and interesting. Once a year in February or March, a few days after the second full moon of the year, crowds gather on the beach for Bau Nyale. The all-night festival is timed to coincide with the hatching of strange worms from the sea bed.
East of Narmada, near the main road that runs through Lombok, there is a cluster of craft villages. The baskets and tablemats from Loyok are famous throughout Indonesia. In neighboring Rungkang, they make smooth jet-black pots of all sizes and then weave a fine basket to fit tightly around them, using supple lengths of ultra-thin rattan.
On the southern slopes of Gunung Rinjani, Tete Batu is a favorite local retreat, with an old hotel and a couple of homestays. Here you can walk to forest waterfalls, while the black monkeys chatter, squeal, and swing in the trees.
Labuhan Lombok is a hot, windswept, dusty, end-of-the-world sort of spot, in spite of its picturesque stilt houses. From here, ferries laden with cars, motorbikes, and passengers sail several times a day eastward to the island of Sumbawa from a terminal 3 km (2 miles) from the village.
