Ubud - jungle or rain forest?

 I was a bit worried leaving Amed that Des wouldn’t like Ubud. Driving from coastal paradise towards the busy, noisy town of Ubud demands a shift of all senses, an adjustment to the pace, noise and so much to see and take in. I have learnt more about Ubud each time I’ve been there over this trip. My friend Charlie had booked a guest house surrounded by paddy fields surprisingly near to the centre of town. 

As we turned onto the jammed Monkey Forest Road, I wanted Des to close his eyes and ears and get to the guest house before he started to judge. Sitting in traffic, surrounded by people on bikes, foot and just the milling masses, we couldn’t do anything other than watch the world and his wife go by.

Just as I left Ubud last time I had the best massage of my trip. He told me his teacher had taught him everything he knew, so I’d booked a massage with the teacher - go to the source, right? Balinese massage isn’t really a thing in the same way Thai massage has a distinct style and set of movements. However, it is lovely and more subtle than the demands of Thai massage. The teacher, and owner of the spa, was really good. He is an intuitive healer and after the massage I felt that all the knots I’d arrived with six weeks ago were finally melted. Not from this one massage alone, but as the culmination of the many massages I’ve had across SEA since I’ve been here.

We met Charlie for supper at Elephant - the first proper vegetarian restaurant I’ve been to and I completely over ate - thrilled to have so much choice. We had some bad news just before supper - our dear friend and business partner, Martin, had died that afternoon. Hard to keep a social conversation going when both Des and I were constantly thinking of Martin, Julia and their kids. Looking out across a jungle valley where Nature is most certainly in charge was a fitting view to contemplate Martin and his lifelong passion for Nature, albeit of the African bush kind. A huge gecko - nearly a foot long - slapped onto our table halfway through dinner. I think he fell from a beam, but he stayed with us, as interested in us as we were in him. Huge frilly feet and a crocodilian skin, he was an absolute beauty.

The noise of insects and birds rises with the sun in Ubud. Much to my relief, Des was seeing the amazing side of Ubud, not just the lack of snorkelling and diving, and the dreaded throngs of people if you turn right instead of left. We stayed left and had a lovely morning of coffee, chilling and catch up. I saw a picture on FB from a year ago - a few days after Mum died - and felt overwhelmed by how much pain I was in at the time. It is humbling to see and feel how much has changed over the last 12 months.

From the restaurant we had seen the famous Campuhan ridge walk and with a free afternoon it seemed the right time. The sky was pretty grey and the distant thunder threatening but we set off anyway, eschewing the many offers of raincoats and umbrellas. The walk is amazing - huge trees and golden temples next to a confluence of two rushing rivers. The ridge opens up with valleys falling away either side. Butterflies flutter and birds of all types call and swoop overhead. The grey skies meant we pretty much had the path to ourselves. We stopped for lunch when the will it / wont it question was decided by quick, thick splashes of rain made it clear - it would. Lunch in the jungle in the rain was a cool thing - despite the annoyingly overattentive staff who just couldn’t bring us what we needed - cutlery - salt - pepper - but wanted to know our names and where we were from.

We planned to go to the fire dance later on. From seeing it last time, I have an idea that some sort of cultural performance could be something to develop with our coastal community in Kenya. Des was keen to see it.

However, the moderate but emphatic rain of the afternoon was just a precursor to a proper sheet rain downpour which kicked off at around the same time as the fire dance. The time I’ve spent in Ubud has been dominated by rain but this was a next level downpour. The fire dance was off, but Des was hungry, so we set out to hunt and gather as close to our guest house as possible. Staying in the middle of rice paddies is great most of the time, but when its too rainy to use the moped, it would be good to be a little bit closer to sustenance of some sort. Once we gave up trying to stay dry it was quite good fun. The paths of our guesthouse were rivers - literally at least an inch or two of water to wade through. The roads were no better but with the additional hazard of cars and mopeds rushing to get out of the rain and not mindful of puddles or drenched tourists trying to find food. We passed the fire dance temple and it was clear that fire and rain don’t go together; cancelled. The first place we found was something I didn’t even know existed - a plant-based, gluten free pizzeria! Des reluctantly admitted it was on the list of best pizzas ever. Amazing to taste plant-based ‘cheese’ and see how far its come on in the quest for no compromise. 

The rain stopped and we headed back to the paddy fields. That calm after the storm with jungle chatter of all kinds which say ‘Wow - that was a storm’. Ubud, I realize, is better when you accept it is more of a rain forest than a jungle. It rains in Ubud - a lot - which is why it is so lush and fecund.

My last night in Ubud, and in Bali. Spectacular but not in the way I had planned. An amazing dawn sky encouraged us to get out onto our scooter to explore. Ubud outskirts are just amazing - vibrant colorful life even at 6am. 

Charlie came to say goodbye in the morning, and we then headed to the airport for our flight back to Bangkok. Des enjoyed Ubud - ‘like King Louis jungle palace,’ he said.

We both loved the unexpected beauties and pleasures of Bali. Being together, exploring and discovering was fantastic. It’s great to be heading home but as I reflect on my 6 weeks in South East Asia, I feel very grateful to have seen and experienced everything I have over this time. Bali in particular is a gentle and safe place. People in Bali have a deeply held moral code based on goodness, family and hard work. The gruesome faces on the temples, so much a part of life here, not only protect, but also warn of the dangers of our selves, of our greed, needs and ego. Money is not king in Bali, far from it which means that while hard work and hustle is very much part of the day, it is never eclipsed by the primary importance of family, prayer and community.