KUTA BEACH

It was our longest 7 kilometers from the overrated GWK Cultural Park where we paid IDR 125,000 each to gawk at huge monuments under a sweltering heat, to the Harris Hotel and Residences at Sunset Boulevard as we inched our way in a monstrous traffic jam of the horde that descended upon Bali for the New Year celebrations.  

7 kilometers in 3 hours.

Fortunately, our post-diarrhea lunch at Nasi Ayam Ibu Oki in Nusa Dua settled well but we missed the sunset at Kuta Beach and ended up with a sate babi dinner after exploring the evening atmosphere of the Kuta Market and exchanging our last $100 for IRD 14,500,000 that partly paid for the next day's Padang breakfast. 

4 kilometers in 54 minutes.

We have been warned of the horrendous traffic to the Ngurah Rai International Airport which means we will really miss the famous Kuta sunset so we walked to the market instead the morning before our flight, had that Padang breakfast, went through the list of the dead etched at the Bali Bombing Memorial, haggled for Balong's souvenir key chains, hydrated with coconuts at Kuta Beach while watching surfers clash with the waves before Grabbing back to the hotel. 

3 kilometers in 31 minutes.

By then, we realized that we just want to go home and decided to Grab a sate feast for lunch to honor the memory of our excellent dinner at Pasar Desa Adat Legian, a surprising breakfast at Pura Lempuyang, the regular babi guling for lunch after Tirta Gingga, and that amazing dinner outside Bobocabin. 

We headed to the airport by 7 pm although our flight is at 1 am the next day just to be sure that we will survive yesterday's carmageddon, and ended up killing 2.5 hours at the airport's High Tide Bar where we blew our remaining IDR 900,000 while waiting for our check-in gate to open.

6.7 kilometers in 30 minutes.

10 hours after PR 538 took off from Bali, we arrived in Bakal 2 to new bedroom doors being installed and my annual hosting of the Thursday Group's traditional New Year's party before submitting my sleepless self to the mercy of San Miguel Beer pale pilsen 30 minutes before the fireworks welcomed 2024...  

UBUD

Ubud is the soul of Bali.

Bursting with heritage and nestled in terraced and forested mountains, it is a world apart from the hedonistic environs of the beach and bar hot spots.

She-who-could-not-come have two wishes for our Bali trip: a photo at the Gate of Heaven and a go at Ubud's giant swing, both of which we did without her unfortunately.

The Aloha Ubud Swing was in lieu of Pura Besakih that almost did not happen because of the afternoon rain.

But the rain did stop, I paid IDR 800,000 for the entrance fee of the boys, and they have their giant swing moment in behalf of their Mom.  

The narrow winding roads can be terrifying though and our vehicle's front wheel actually fell into a huge pothole along a deep ravine as our driver tried to navigate a tight two-way traffic on our way to the Ceking Rice Terraces, part of Bali's UNESCO World Heritage Site, where we did a mini trek up and down the hills not realizing that there was actually a zip line across the glen that can bring us to the other side and back for a fee of IDR 350,000 each.

At the Tegenungan Waterfall, we trekked down steep concrete steps and went back up with the memory of inadvertently watching a tourist change from wet bikini to dry panty while we lick our gelato ice creams. 

At the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, apes observe a human discreetly pull up her skirt to pee under a footbridge while a Balinese funeral ceremony is being performed nearby.

Warung Babi Guling Ibu Oka in Ubud was made famous by Anthony Bourdain and we had a late lunch there, the most probable culprit of a diarrhea attack that later came for Bulan and me, and perhaps the lone Chinese lady too who was nursing a big Bintang in a nearby table. 

Across is the Ubud Palace, the official residence of the royal family and the only attraction where we don't have to pay an entrance fee maybe because there's not much to see which is why we ended killing time and avoiding the heat in an airconditioned Starbucks.  

With 2.5 hours to go before the Legong Trance and Paradise Dance, we donned sweaty sarongs, kimonos and udengs at the nearby Ubud Water Palace for a fee of IDR 50,0000 each.

With 1.5 hours to go, an aggressive stall owner tried to sell us Balinese shirts at the new Ubud Art Market but Bulan bought souvenir magnets from a nice lady instead while Balong entertained himself inspecting penis replicas in various forms.

With 0.5 hours to go, we had a happy hour mojito at the Arang Sate Bar so I can use their toilet for the first surge of a possible diarrhea.   

The Legong Trance and Paradise Dance show have two parts that took 2 hours to perform: four acts of solo and group dances followed by the Ballet of Bimaniu. 

By the second hour, interest began to wane and spectators start walking to the exit but we stayed because Balong was enthusiastic and insisted on finishing the whole package until a soft rain threathened the last 10 minutes of it.

That night at Bobocabin, Bulan had a tidal wave of diarrhea and I had mine the next day at the Pelingpuran Traditional Village which we tried to treat with snake fruit and durian as we head back to Denpasar for the last stage of our Bali Christmas story. 

THE GATES OF HEAVEN

Mt. Agung is the highest point in Bali while Pura Lempuyang is one of Bali's six holiest places of prayer.

Balinese Hindus consider Mt. Agung as a representation of Mt. Meru, the spiritual central axis of the universe of three beliefs, and is therefore the equivalent of heaven. 

Pura Lempuyang's candi bentar or split gateway is actually the entrance to the middle zone of the temple that leads to the most sacred and holiest zone which directly faces Mt. Agung.

From the viewpoint of the holiest of holies, the candi bentar appears to be a portal to Mt. Agung and tourists who were mesmerized by this amazing panorama eventually referred to it as the Gate of Heaven.

We were Number 122 in the photo queue that took a 3-hour early morning trip from Seminyak and another 3-hour wait but we nailed the Gate of Heaven although she who really wanted it was not with us and that is so sad and disappointing.       

It was not our first gate of heaven though. 

Thieving monkeys distracted us in Pura Uluwatu but on the day after Christmas, we followed two Japanese ladies to the candi bentar of Pura Taman Ayun that leads to the paduraksa, the locked gate to the most sacred main sanctum where meru towers of different heights reach to the heavens.  

Pura Taman Ayun or the "Temple of the Floating Garden" was established in the 17th century and is exlusive to Bali royalty.  

It is part of an ancient subak irrigation system that has been declared as a cultural landscape of Bali and inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2012. 

Some 34 kilometers from this part of heaven is Pura Ulun Danu, a water temple along the shores of Lake Beratan that is 1,500 meters above sea level in the Bedugul Highlands where we were entertained with a traditional Balinese dance after passing through its candi bentar. 

In Balinese Hindu temples, the height of the meru towers is determined by the importance of the gods who are believed to temporarily reside in them. 

Meru towers are representations of Mt. Meru that is replicated as Mt. Agung in Bali and are therefore symbolical heavens.

At more than 600 hectares, the Jatiluwih Rice Terraces is the biggest of Bali's declared cultural landscape --- the traditional subak irrigation system that is directly linked to two water temples one of which is Pura Ulun Danu. 

It's not as huge and aestheticaly alluring as our Ifugao rice terraces but again, the amazing story here is the irrigation and not the terraces. 

Finally, Pura Tanah Lot or the "Temple of the Land in the Sea", so called because it was built in an off-shore rock in the 16th century and the most famous of Bali's seven sea temples. 

We are supposed to watch its beautiful sunset but we were early, we were bathing in sweat and we were tired so opted instead for a blessing of its sacred spring water that came with rice kernels pressed in our foreheads, and flowers tucked behind our ears.

There are too many curious people and the market overshadowed the two candi bentar that leads out to the subdued meru of the sacred islet that is said to be protected by venomous sea snakes who talked with us in parseltongue.

We should take off now to beat the Bali rush hour traffic they said, which we did and got caught up with. 

Pura Lempuyang's Gate of Heaven is the climax of these mini-heavens that was initially planned to be punctuated with a piligrimage to Pura Besakih, the "mother temple" of Balinese Hinduism perched 1,000 meters above sea level in the slopes of Mt. Agung.

But first, a short visit to Tirta Gangga, a former royal palace that was built in 1946 and named after the Ganges River that turned out to be a dud and that is where temple fatigue set in. 

Bli Newa informed us that it will take 1.5 hours to reach Pura Besaki and another 1.5 hours to Ubod.

That and the reported extortion of tourists by local gangs made us decide to skip Pura Besakih --- the most important, largest and holiest Hindu temple in Bali --- and go for a famous swing in Ubud instead.

CHRISTMAS IN ULUWATU

Empu Kutruran is a ghost and it was Danghyang Nirarthas who transformed a fossilized ship into what is now the Uluwatu Temple so a crab-eating macaque can steal Kuya Bulan's eyewear on Christmas Day 15 minutes after this photo was taken by Bli Subena who piloted our Christmas car and bought our entrance tickets.

We have been alerted of the monkey thieves by amateur surfers before they were devoured by the waves of Legian Beach, their warnings echoing in the open kitchen of Depot Chandra while Balong happily cried over a Christmas brunch of Denpasar's best but spicy babi guling. 

That same day, Bulan and Balong walked into a crevice that led into a forest of bikini Christmas trees in Padang-Padang Beach where iced coffee is brewed in green Bintang bottles and sold as kopi luwak and 12 shots of hot beverages for Elizabeth Gilbert and the patrons of Lumbung Sari. 

Back at the Uluwatu Temple, Bulan's monocle was recovered through a bounty of crumpled Indonesian rupias, washed at a toilet where the pieces were reassembled, the thieving monkey tried and roasted in a Fire Dance of chanting men and masks as the Timor Sea burned from an invisible sunset. 

There were four plates and four wine glasses at the Christmas seafood dinner in Jimbaran Beach, two contented sons, and Beach Bali Cafe's house wine that somehow blunted the emptiness of the fourth chair and the solitary nights at the master's bedroom of The Legian Sunset Residence in Seminyak...  

7 DAYS TO BALI

72 consecutive hours.

It was the longest Thursday feast ever --- leftover chop suey and kinilaw na tuna, Italian olives and salami, sliced fruits and ham --- that actually started on a Tuesday after the announcement of an impending departure from O as the confused Luang Prabang bookings morphed into rationale credit card payments. 

6 biking days before Bali.

It could have been 7 but only two speakers has confirmed so far, the water source padlocked with electrical wirings from the ceiling project as the updated AWG 2024 group email sent out clarifications on budget charging and a TOIL claim that has not been confirmed.

MENA has confirmed on Kathmandu that is now a bucketful of monologue about stakeholder engagement which got the Bali documents printed for the Fellows of the Craft in Baloc and what can be the year's last Christmas party in Bantug where 7,500 of a 10,400 cash gift was blown on light brandy, somebody else's kids, absent goddaughters, and the unexpected costs of dying young in Laur...

THE STARS OF SIEM REAP

He was loud, the Chinese man at Starbucks along Mao Tse Tung Boulvevard, so the office at the third floor had him bundled to the new airport in Siem Reap to be displayed among the glittering stars of Pub Street where the accidental panelist dined on grilled pork from the riverbank and grilled beef sausage at the Night Market for the price of an "Angkor What?" t-shirt. 

In the universe of the 4th ACWC Partnership Conference, his star shined bright in Session 3 despite interruptions from Kathmandu and Vientiane, the glitter caught in a pool of dark and draft beer where a dried giant fish was baited with sweet beef jerky and wrapped in a Laotian souvenir bag. 

The Red Piano under a tall Christmas tree played holiday carols, about two Grab car cancellations and superstars announcing their pledges of support as bets were placed on how long can the bladder hold four pints without peeing, the first two paired with a spicy salmon salad and grilled octupos tentacles, the last two with grilled pork ribs and belly before the clock at the tattoo parlor chimed 26.

Time was lost but pee was ably absorbed by 10 plies of Robinsons natural interfolded bamboo paper towels and a pack of keopok udang from Brunei, the megastar of the conference as reported in the bi-monthly  I-JET team meeting, that is the two hours lost by Flight K6106 to Phnom Penh as the World Social Forum talked, the time regained by an early check in for Flight PR522 to Manila, an early breakfast of Lawson egg sandwich at McDonald's Panay and the ensuing 5-hour wait for a dollar reimbursement, four sets of boarding passes to the EJ impact evaluation, the 4-hour bus ride to Bakal 2 for a birthday bottle of Johnny Walker in Pantok, and finally the star of the show --- a petite Ballantine to celebrate 26 starred years with real friends...