A Travellerspoint blog

Scoot me away to Ubud!

Finishing up at Lembongan and traveling to Ubud...land of the meditative hippie!

overcast 30 °C

Lembongon had been a cruel, beautiful, mistress, and with a throbbing knee and psychedelic bruises it was time to head back to the mainland and travel to Ubud to meditate!

The Balinese have such kindness in the, and I was well looked-after at Cassava Bungalows, from the medicinal care-taking, to the endless lifts they provided me. It was sad to be leaving this little paradise on the mountain. I was heading back down to the dive shop to finalise the bill (and apologise for my no-show), and then head to the beach with Scoot ferries for transport back to Bali. With me at the bungalow I just had my large suitcase, so had asked the hotel if they could arrange the covered ute to take me down with my luggage. Much to my surprise, yet another scooter pulled up out the front of the hotel! "Are you kidding? You know I've got a suitcase, right?" "Yes, no problem", and the gentleman promptly set about strategically balancing my epic suitcase in the foot well, with enough room to place a millimetre of foot on each side, and see over the top to navigate. When in Rome...

So back down the mountain we went, and I relented. There was no use stressing, because there was no other option. So I just hung on: willing my brain to expand enough to hold on to my floppy hat whilst I white-knuckled the passenger bar behind my derriere. And before I knew it I was safely being off-loaded at Big Fish Diving with my suitcase still in one piece.

With the bill sorted, a farewell delivered to my friend Tine, and the ferry company working on Bali time I relaxed into my book, sitting in a café around the corner willing my body to cool down with my feet dangling in the edge of a pool. Half an hour before my ferry was due to leave I went back to the pick up point outside the dive shop and waited for the car to come and collect me and my luggage, now expanded to include my carry-on. And then I waited some more. And then I had the dive shop call them. And then I waited. Then I had them call the ferry company again. And the ferry departure time passed, and I was still waiting. And finally, a scooter rocked up to take me the few minutes down the road to the ferry... me, and my two suitcases, on the scooter. I laughed, surely it was impossible, and indeed the laws of physics agreed, so the guy took my big suitcase first, then a few minutes later came back to collect me and the little suitcase. I was the last one on the ferry, no doubt delaying the departure even further, and then we were off. Cruising along the flat water between Nusa Lembongan and Bali, to arrive on Sanur Beach to start the next part of the trip.

A handful of us from the ferry were headed to Ubud, and joined a mini bus that would take us there. The drive took us past dozens of street vendors selling corn cobs, pineapples, durian, and other assorted fruits and produce. A little girl no more than 8 was riding her bike in the wrong direction on the edge of the road, with hundreds of scooters zooming past within inches of the bicycle. Despite the lane markings, it was every car, truck and scooter for itself through busy intersections and roundabouts where half a dozen lines of traffic tried to create two or three semi-logical lanes of order.

Ubud was about an hour away, and the mass of traffic funnelled down into one lane that went through the small towns and villages nearer to Ubud. We dropped everyone off one by one at their respective accommodation, with myself the last. Sadly, I left my lovely floppy hat on the minibus, so the first task was finding a new one.

My new accommodation for the next two nights was Tebesaya Cottage near the heart of Ubud. Again I was overwhelmed by the kindness of the hotel staff, who on seeing my bruised and battered legs were showering me with betadine, bandaids, and something called Channa wood - a local dark brown liquid that should reduce the bruising quickly.
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The place was absolutely gorgeous. A stunning pool with water spurting from stone statues was directly outside my front porch, with frangapani trees and orchards lining the paths. A little tropical oasis if ever I saw one. The room was lovely, with the most glorious pillows I've ever slept on! I will be dreaming about them for a while I think.

The afternoon was wiled away walking the streets to find a hat, which I didn't find until the next day, and some food... and I landed on The Dirty Duck restaurant. No doubt drawn to the name, uniting my social group 'The Dirty Dozen', with my high school nickname, The Duck Chaser (on account of having chased a duck one lunchtime down by the lake at school). The house specialty, surprise surprise, was steamed duck deepfried to a crisp in Bali spices and a heck load of chilli dipping sauce. It was an unusual dish. I love duck, but this little guy was a bit on the scrawny side, looking like the local ducks traversing the rice paddies. The meat, whilst somewhat tasty, was super dry and super crispy. Lots of chilli sauce helped. But the best part was the refreshing lemon and mint icy drink... yum!
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The afternoon was wiled away wandering the streets, napping, reading books, and dipping into the pool before an evening at The Jazz Café in Ubud. Only a 10 minute stroll from my place, the café was apparently quite well known. It was salsa night and the local dance school was enjoying the live band, practising and whisking each other around the dance floor. My poor knee would not relent and sadly I had to turn down a dance and watch from the sidelines. Dinner was a lovely entrée of duck spring rolls and pea and asparagus risotto. A couple of cocktails later and I was ready to head back home... missing the free cocktail out of my buy two get one free deal!
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Daily summary:

Free cocktails: 0
Lost hats: 1
Photos of pools: 8
Ducks consumed: 0.6

Watching my luggage get free rides around Lembongan: priceless!

Posted by jenniferhall 02:48 Archived in Indonesia Tagged pool jazz duck salsa ubud lembongan tebesaya Comments (0)

Scuba Diving and Scooter Driving

One of these two things I'll never do again!

overcast 28 °C

Me and my little suitcase of dive gear, which was strategically placed, were riding down the mountain of Lembongan on the back of a scooter driven my one of the kind hotel guys. This, as I understood it, was my only option for transport this morning to the Big Fish Dive shop, as the little truck/ute that the hotel had was parked in by half a dozen other scooters. In the interest of time, and my mentality of ‘when in Rome’, I went along for what turned out to be a very fun, much smoother, ride! Unfortunately, the ride made driving the scooter seem easy, and with the staff not appearing keen to chauffeur me around for the next two days, perhaps hiring one for 80,000 IDR per day wasn’t such a bad idea after all. I’d look at it again after my diving.

I met up with Tine for a quick brekky of banana pancake outside her Bungalow at the Big Fish Dive accommodation, before sorting out or dive gear with Sam, our gorgeous (and 19-year-old!) dive guide. I had brought most of my own gear, but borrowed a few things that were too big to transport, and was grateful for the familiarity of it all. We loaded the little wooden rickshaw up and Sam took it the few hundred meters to the beach where the dive boat was waiting.

It was an extremely smooth boat trip out to the north side of Nusa Penida, where there are quite a few dive sites where the sloping landscape showcased some beautiful coral formations and lots of fish and other sea life. We geared up for the first site and had a dive brief. This area is known for drift diving due to the mild to strong currents in the area. We would be descending and following the current for around 50 minutes, before ascending, letting off the orange noodle, and being picked up by the boat several hundred meters or more from the starting point.
Getting ready in hot muggy weather on a boat is possibly my least favourite part of boat diving, but with such calm conditions it was exponentially better than the times that I’m feeling like hurling over the side whilst someone else has the sorry task of jiggling me into my suit. We were doing a back roll off the side of the boat to get into the water, which was much for fun and less scary than I’d thought, and in no time we were getting ready to descend.
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The first images below the surface were of a badly damaged area of coral. As the dive guide relayed after, this was the result of natural weather conditions and storms coming through the area, and thankfully not the result of fishing with explosives as had previously been the case.
The site was steeply sloping, and we stuck between 20m and 15m, covering quite a distance with the gentle current. There was an array of colourful nudibranch, little worm-like creatures, which have an external lung like a flower, which is the Latin origin of their name: nudi meaning ‘naked’, and branch (pronounced brank I think), meaning ‘lung’.

We saw a variety of fish and corals, and I was lucky to find a little cowrie shell, which will hopefully make it back to my collection at home. However, despite the interesting macro things we saw, the area was relatively similar for the whole dive.

Back on the boat for our one hour break and we enjoyed one of the local meals, which was a portion of boiled rice and mixed seafood and meats in a tangy lemongrass and chilli marinade, served in paper folded into a pyramid. You carefully unfold the paper until you have created a little bowl, then with your fingers, you mix together the meats and the rice, and scoop it out a finger-full at a time. We were ravenous, so it didn’t last long, and was one of the most delicious local things I’ve had so far.

We travelled west back towards Lembongan to our second dive site called Mangroves, geared up, rolled off the boat, and prepared for the descent. Again, we remained between 15 and 10 meters for the majority of the dive, however the current was far stronger than the first, which took some getting used to. On a few occasions when I was a few meters farther away from the guide than I should have been, or shallower or deeper than the others, it was a huge effort to navigate the current and get back to where I was meant to be. I can imagine that getting caught by a current going in the wrong direction, particularly up or downwards, could be extremely dangerous, so I was grateful for the extensive experience of the guide. As it was just Tine and myself, we were indulging in the flexibility of having this private day of diving, and were in great hands.

The landscape was more interesting on the second dive, and a large arrange of fish, including trigger fish, were great to see. Given the current (which I thought was strong, but Sam though was fairly mild compared to others he’d experienced), it was hard to see much of the macro detail of the site, because as soon as you spotted something and tried to point it out, you were 10 meters further along with no hope of returning. At one point the current split in two directions, and once again, a huge effort to ensure that I was on the correct path with the others in order to stick together. This type of diving was exhilarating though, and the feeling of flying was heightened with the relative ease of being carried along.

When we surfaced it was incredible to see the distance that we’d travelled from our starting point. Easily 600-700 meters or more. Given we were now so close to our launch point on the beach of Lembongan, it took no time at all to get back to shore where we took the gear back to the dive shop, cleaned it all, and got ready to head to Mushroom Bay for the afternoon.

This is where it all went pear-shaped.

I’d decided (much to my parents’ imminent horror) that given the difficulties of getting around the island, and the choice of either being on the back of a scooter, or driving it myself, that I’d feel more comfortable being in control of my own transport (control freak!). So with the encouragement of a few people explaining how cheap and easy it was to organise and drive them, I hired one from one of the local girls working at the dive resort. Tine and I would be heading together to Mushroom Bay for a swim and a feed, so we went to organise it together. It was a little red scooter, and after a brief explanation of how to start it, accelerate, and break, I was riding a very small lap around the garden practicing turning and breaking.

However, I had to take the bike out the back gate to the road, which was over a little incline about a foot tall, quite steep, through a narrow opening about 1 meter wide. You know where this is all going I presume. Yes. Twenty seconds into the ride I had gone too slowly, at the wrong angle, through the passageway, and although I was only going at the embarrassingly slow speed of about 5km per hour, I managed to hit my knee on the way through, steer the scooter into a rope fence, and scared the breakfast out of Tine and two other poor girls who were walking just ahead of me. The scooter, far heavier than I’d realised, lent awkwardly onto my leg, and I am now the not-so-proud owner of the biggest bruise I’ve ever seen and a fairly sore, swollen knee!
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Tine was exceptionally kind and reassuring, and bravely subjected herself as the passenger on the 15 minute trip to my hotel, with one embarrassing stop half way up the hill where I didn’t give it enough power to make it, and had to get a local to drive it the rest of the way up the hill. The rest of the ride was fine, but after we arrived back at my bungalow, my scooter driving days were over and I happily handed the reins over to Tine to drive and return the bike!

After a longer-than-anticipated rest stop at my bungalow to nurse my pride, my knee, and detangle my dread lock that had formed whilst diving, we headed out to Mushroom Bay, Tine at the helm and me on the back feeling much more comfortable as a passenger (and back seat driver, sorry Tine!).

Mushroom Bay was a very small precinct, with a few bungalow resorts, restaurants, and slightly churned up water from the weather conditions. We ended up only having a short swim, and then moving to one of the restaurants for a late afternoon dinner of pizza and vegie samosa (which were amazing!).

Back to the bungalow before sunset (Tine was a brilliant little driver!), and it was ice packs and bed for me and getting advice from my nurse friends back home on anything else I should be doing, like amputating my leg. Thankfully, rest and elevation is all the doctor ordered and so I succumbed to sleep, the feeling of stupidity for trying the scooter, and the realisation that I’d cost myself the second day of diving which I would have to pull out of as I doubt I'd be able to get my knee into my tight wetsuit. I was naturally very disappointed, but mostly in myself. It was a costly lesson to learn, and one that I will never have to learn again.

Daily Summary:

Dives: 2
Kwells: 1
Angel fish seen: 30+
Samosas: 6
Minutes of scooter driving: 15
Number of injuries scooter driving: 1
Daily tally of regrets: 1

Realisation that my parents were right? Priceless

Posted by jenniferhall 08:15 Archived in Indonesia Tagged food bali diving beach scuba scuba_diving motorbikes scooters lembongan mushroom_bay Comments (0)

Runaway Cows

Heading from Seminal to Nusa Lembongan Island

rain 29 °C

It’s not too often you see two cows running up the median strip of a busy main road, but that’s how today started.

I was on my way to the island Nusa Lembongan, about 30 minutes from Sanur, on the East coast of Bali, for a couple of days of scuba diving, and relaxing in a beautiful Bungalow. Scoot was the boat company that I would be travelling with, and they kindly pick you up from your hotel and transfer you to Sanur to catch the boat, and if you get the return trip as well, will deliver you to your next hotel destination. This was brilliant because when I returned I would be headed to Ubud, around 1.5 hours north of Sanur, and I hadn’t yet thought about how to get there!
Sanur was a very busy little beach 20 minutes from Seminyak, with a multitude of various quality boating companies offering transit to Lembongan, Nusa Penida and the Gillie Islands several times a day. It also appeared to be a popular swimming location for both tourists and locals, with colourful animal floaties for hire scattered around the beach.

The trip over was quicker than expected, and thankfully after a few days of interesting weather, the water was relatively calm until the last 10 minutes or so from Lembongan. I get horrifically sea sick at the best of times, so I was grateful for the mostly calm journey and my trusty Kwells seasickness tablet! But that last 10 minutes was unnerving, with swell of several meters creating little bursts of water through the window that seemed to be magnetised to exactly where I was sitting. I’d met on the car trip to Sanur a couple of lovely American girls travelling to the Island for the day, and on the boat met a lovely Danish girl named Tine who was scheduled to be on the same dive boat for the next couple of days and was also travelling solo.
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We landed on Lembongan around 10am, and climbed off the back of the boat, a little less than waist deep, soaking my dress for the second time that day. Locals were unloading 25kg bags of rice from a boat to the right of us, carrying them effortlessly balanced on their heads whilst wading waist deep or more in the warm water. It is hard to imagine how the locals must cope getting building materials, scooters, and the little open back trucks from the mainland.

By this stage it is hot, muggy, and sweaty…once again, and I am begrudgingly realising that maybe there are benefits of the prolific “thigh gap” trend that seems to be the craze these days with women, given I’ve got some serious thigh chaffage happening here! Shorts are definitely on the shopping list the first chance I get!

We waited in the heat for the transport to our respective accommodation. The transport here is 99% scooters, and a handful of little ute-type trucks with open parallel seating in the covered back with room for about 10 people and some luggage. I was staying in Cassava Bungalows, which looked relatively close, only a few kilometres, from the main area on Lembongan, but which was in actual fact at the top of the hill near Mushroom Bay via some quite windy, poor quality, roads. Getting around here might be a problem, as walking was out of the question. I’ll figure that out later.
I arrived at Cassava Bungalows with a very warm welcome from the staff, and was shown to my gorgeous bungalow complete with king bed, and a dreamy mosquito canopy. The bathroom was out the back and to my delight was an open air shower in a beautiful stone garden. This was certainly the tranquil setting that I had hoped for on my relaxing holiday.
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After a swim in the central pool, it was time to relax for a while with a nap, before heading back to town to meet Tine for a late lunch and a massage. One of the kind hotel staff drove me back down and agreed to pick me up again at 6pm. I sorted out the dive registration at Big Fish Diving, which were fantastic, and headed out for some seafood noodles and a massage. It was raining, yet again, so we wandered the streets under the light drizzle and dozed off under the hands of the local masseuse. It was only 4pm or so, and I’d been getting the distinct feeling that hiring a scooter would be the only way to really get around, but I was nervous as hell and chickened out when walking past the local hire places. It seemed so easy, and everyone I saw – tourist and locals – was effortlessly traversing the streets, which were much less busy that in Bali, at a pretty slow pace, and with plenty of ‘beeping’ to alert other traffic to their position. But I already had a ride that night, so I put the thought out of my mind. After all, it was the one thing my parents told me not to do while I was over here!
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In the few hours before heading back, I lounged around a café, sipping fresh watermelon juice, and eating the very popular chocolate, banana, and coconut crepes, reading my booked (Inferno, by Dan Brown…very entertaining), and writing blog posts. Then it was back to Cassava for a quick swim, Nasi Goreng, and bedtime. Tomorrow would be the first day of diving along the north coast of Nusa Penida so it was bedtime for me.
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Daily Summary:

Cows spotted whilst driving: 2
New friends: 1
Banana Crepes: 1

Walking like a cowgirl due to thigh-chaffage: priceless

Posted by jenniferhall 07:13 Archived in Indonesia Tagged animals mountain island bungalow cows pancakes seminyak nusa_lembongan Comments (0)

Tricycles on Rooftops in Seminyak

overcast 29 °C

It smells different. But to millions of people, it smells like home. I’m just not one of those people, and my nostrils take a few moments to adjust at the airport to smells that are unfamiliar.
And so the adventures begin, at near-enough midnight in Denpasar airport. Sepah siap? It means either “are you ready?” or “already ready!” Regardless, yes I am!

And uneventful flight with half of Tinder’s male, tattooed, population, and groups of friends who are noisy with excitement. My delightful neighbour pre-warns me that since he’s a heavy drinker, I can expect a fair few toilet breaks and disruptions to my movie-watching. But bless him, he fell asleep, so there were only a few interruptions to an otherwise decidedly unexciting movie.

From Perth, which was mildly cool when I left, to Bali’s hot mushy air. First challenge, the taxi! Now none of this is particularly out of the ordinary, it starts as every normal holiday starts, except this is the first time that I’ve taken myself on an overseas adventure. I’ve done very little travel in my time – Thailand and Hawaii, and a brief Bali trip years ago is about the extent of my passport stamps – and so my senses are heightened. I’m freaking out about getting in a taxi with a crazy person (he wasn’t crazy in the end – Mr Jon Katut), being ripped off, or having all my luggage stolen the first time I have to check a map, but everyone is so lovely and the drivers are fighting for passengers as their highest priority. I have no idea what I paid, or whether it was in the ballpark of acceptable, but who cares, it got me to a clean bed in less than 20 minutes.

Driving through the streets of Bali, and no doubt many Asian countries, is an experience. The lady-boys are out in their hundreds, lining streets that are too narrow, the taxi dodging scooters left right and centre, and narrowly missing everyone we pass. It’s Friday night, and if this is the nightlife of Seminyak I think I would be nervous to venture out along. Thankfully, tomorrow I won’t have to as a few friends from home are also in town, and they can supervise my adventures for at least one night while I get used to the haggling, the taxis, and where I am. We arrive at Grandma’s Hotel – an unremarkable, but friendly and clean hotel for about $36 per night, with crisp white sheets and awesome pillows. Two episodes of ‘Girls’ and a cold shower later, I was out like a light.

I don’t think my body got the message that I was on holidays yet. I woke up at 7:30am, as normal, got up, got ready on autopilot, and ventured out into Seminyak’s streets. The hunt was on for breakfast, but first I wanted to just wander the streets and check out my surrounds. Thank goodness I brought my fan! I am not one for humid heat and I’m dripping with sweat in minutes. I was surprised to see how expensive some of the clothing shops were – not dissimilar to Perth prices, albeit you can find things you’re unlikely to find back home, minus the ease of refund and returns.
After a short time exploring (once you’ve seen 200m of any of the streets in Seminyak, you’ve pretty much covered everything you’re going to find), I’m ready for the rest and relaxation to begin! The beach is only a few minutes away, so I meander in its general directly, swing past the hotel, and make the first of many costume changes for the day. I’m decked out in my fluoro pink and orange Seafolly retro bikini and some sheer black and white number. I can’t quite remember if this is somewhere where you’re meant to be modest and cover up a little, but the beach is only a few minutes away, so I risk it. ‘Ooo pretty lady’…cheers mate.

In Perth, the beaches are essentially pristine as far up or down the coast you go, and Rottnest beaches are as spectacular and clean as they come. Seminyak on the other hand, did not give me the joyous holiday beach feeling that I’ve always expected of places like this. The sand was a dirty brown/black colour, it was fine grain so stuck to every bead of sweat on me, and the water was unappealing. Perhaps this is why every hotel has a spectacular pool to lounge around. Except mine. To my surprise, Grandma’s Hotel was undergoing a restaurant and pool renovation, so no tropical oasis 12 feet from my room that I had hoped for. The cocktails by the pool would need to wait for another time, as would a swim in the ocean. But Chez Gado Gado, quite a nice beach-front restaurant, was beckoning with eggs benedict.

Heading back to the hotel, it dawned on me that I’d been in tropical Bali for a whole 10 hours, and hadn’t yet had a massage or a manicure. Good gracious, I’m letting the proverbial ball slip! I walked past dozens of little massage places with tanks of tiny fish out the front designed to suck the crap off your feet and ‘cleanse’ you somehow. No, thank you. So I entered into a delightful spa, and had an epic pedicure, during which I blissed out half asleep on the reclining chair, and a quick manicure. I instantly disliked the colour I’d chosen.

Lunchtime, and I was due to meet Perth MeetUp friends from ‘The Dirty Dozen’ at Mamasan Restaurant in Seminyak. It’s meant to be excellent, and had booked out for dinner, so lunch was the only opportunity to give it a go. It was lovely seeing some familiar faces, and these are all people that share a similar affiliation for fine food. Mamasan has some spectacular décor, with an entire wall dedicated to a stunning painting of a geisha of sorts, detailed to such an extent that it looks like a photograph rather than a painting. The symmetry of the bar was beautiful, with two staircases
flanking the sides and leading to a second floor for functions.
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We ordered cocktails and delectable food. A lemoncello & chilli martini facilitated my afternoon buzz, and had just enough tang and spice to be refreshing and totally unusual. For entrees we shared beef dumplings, peking duck on a bed of choy sum and pickled ginger, and delicate salt and pepper squid. The dumplings left some of us wondering what the fuss was about, but everything else was fresh and tasty. For main course, one of our party had a whole crispy barramundi with sweet chilli jam, which was incredible…flaky, sweet, and different. And it was so good, that even the eyeballs were savoured momentarily, until the gritty, chewy centre remained, and was promptly discarded. Gross. By the way, that was not me! The two other dishes comprised a sweet lamb and pea laarb, and a prawn, chilli jam, and cashew stir fry. Overall, the cocktails were exceptional, and the food was tasty. Sitting next to us was a lone gentleman having a crack at an epic crispy pork hock the size of my head, getting meat sweats, whilst endeavouring to savour the whole experience without passing out! There were definitely more things on the menu worth trying, best savoured over a leisurely dinner another time.

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The afternoon wiled away with a leisurely swim at The Hotel Seminyak (wow!), in the rain, before an afternoon nap back at Grandma’s in preparation for a night out on the town which started with a passionfruit mango martini cocktail at Cocoon Beach Club.

Dinner was an unscheduled delight, having walked up the unusually quiet streets near Legian to an unassuming restaurant front which was supposedly serving the best beef carpaccio around. And it was exceptional. Around the perimeter of the restaurant were raised booths of cushions with a low table for diners to laze around whilst eating. The exhaustion of the last few months of work and study were slowly creeping in, so the comfort of a padded cocoon was lulling me into a daze. Yet again, the restaurant offered an extensive menu of everything from traditional fare, pizza and pasta, to Australian steak. But I had seafood on the mind.
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I ordered the seafood extravaganza, and it lived up to its title. Four different types of fish, prawns (well, prawn actually), a baby stuffed squid, and half (yes half!) a tiny scallop. We pondered where the other half had gone, because really, it was quite unusual! Each morsel of my meal was individually marinated in a different type of spice mix, full of flavour, served hot in a searing pan. And it was so good that I didn’t once get food envy from the whole crab next to me. We were the only people in the restaurant except for the stray kittens running up and down the stairs to the back of the restaurant – black and white – finding a skerrick of food here and there to fill out their skinny frames. Not surprising for an 11pm dinnertime. I was fading fast and just about ready to pack it in for the night and get back to Grandma’s, when the one thing that would keep me out was offered. “Let’s go to La Favela”.

La Favela was in the buzzing central of Seminyak, and is the most unusual, wonderful bar I have ever been in. The place is nothing short of breathtaking, creepy, underworld, vintage sheik. You walk into another world via a walkway over flowing water, amongst luscious greenery reaching high up the walls. The bar itself is generally dark. On every wall and surface is vintage memorabilia, artworks, chandeliers. There are statues, including a replica of “Christ the Redeemer”, which sits atop a hill in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The adjacent rooftop is scattered with old-fashioned tricycles. There are antique, wrought iron spiral staircases scattered around the various levels of what can only be described as a labyrinth of dark and dreamy areas to explore and occupy. There are private dining rooms lining one side of the area, decked out with the full regalia of vintage table settings and random moody artefacts. It is a photographer’s (or budding, wanna-be, photographer-in-training’s) absolute fantasy.

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I first saw La Favela during the day, when my friends could not help but point out every nook and cranny. In the evening, it was exactly what I imagined. Buzzing with the eclectic mix of internationals that the bar effortlessly attracts. The music was fun and funky, and despite the expense of a wine or cocktail, was worth the cheeky, arm-flailing dancing that followed.

But in my true fashion, I hit the wall…hard, and made a swift exit in search of a cold shower and comfy bed and the respectable time of 1am.

Daily summary:

Outfit changes: 4
Cold showers: 3
Deep-fried crispy pork-hocks: 0 (and my heart thanks me)
IDR spent: more than I can count

Flailing arm-dancing witnessed only by the creepy replication of ‘Frida’: priceless!

Posted by jenniferhall 06:35 Archived in Indonesia Tagged bali beach bar seminyak Comments (0)

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