Bali, Indonesia

We left Singapore during Chinese New Year to spend the holiday in Bali Indonesia. We skipped the touristy areas around the beaches and town of Kota. Instead, we gravitated to the interior of the island, to the village of Ubud.

Ubud Village

The internet informs me that Ubud is not really a single town, but 14 villages that merged into each other as they grew. Much of that growth appears to be centered around the main road of Jalan Raya Ubud, where it crosses Monkey Forest Road.

Bali is not a large island, so Ubud is not far from the International Airport, nor really any of the perimeter of Bali's beaches. But it is still isolated by the long, slow drive along old village roads, frequently narrow and pot-holed from the abundant rain. It took us more than an hour to make the 22 mile drive from the airport.

We stayed in the center of Ubud, on Monkey Forest Road at the Ubud Village Hotel. But even here, in the center of town, surrounded by incessant growth, you can still see terraced rice paddy fields if you leave the main streets and explore behind the hotels. The villagers go about their businesses, intermingling with the tourists here and there, but mostly tending to their own private affairs. We were able to find abundant traditional shops and crafts amidst the mass-produced baubles and trinkets.

Monkey Forest Sanctuary

From our hotel was a short walk to the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, one of the area's biggest attractions for me. The signs warn you not to touch or tease the monkeys. But you are allowed to feed them, as long as you do so carefully. They even have monkey experts and helpful signs to advise you.

"If there is no monkey expert nearby, please toss the food to the monkeys from a safe distance. Do not hide food. The monkey will find it even if it is in your pocket or bag. If a monkey gets on you, drop all your food and walk away slowly."

This little guy jumped on my back and tried to grab my camera while I was taking photos:



I returned to the Monkey Forest Sanctuary several times. Early in the morning, I found the monkeys out in larger numbers, and more playful than in the afternoon. But I also found the mosquitoes in larger numbers. I suspect the monkeys were questioning why I was so stupid to stand around giving blood to the mosquitoes just to watch them scratch themselves and play with their food.

Rice Paddy Fields

On our second day in Ubud, we rented bicycles and left the center village to explore the surrounding rice paddy fields. We didn't have a map; we just followed different roads out of town.

Along one road, after a long climb, we left the road and turned into the fields at random to follow a narrow path along the rice paddies.

After winding through the fields, the path came to an end. To our surprise, we found an Australian woman walking towards us. Our first thought was to apologize, but she was inviting us to join her.

Rhonda invited us into her garden for a glass of cool water. After brief introductions, we were sitting in a beautiful villa on a raised open-air pavilion covered by a thatched roof. Rhonda was from Australia. She and her husband were restoring the villa, and they had plans to rent it out when completed.

As we sat there however, their plan was delayed with low crashing sound and the appearance of a team of workers looking hesitantly down an incline - their foreman holding his head in his hands.

The crash also produced two of Rhonda's guests, Phil and Elsha, curious about the noise and activity. We joined the construction crew looking down at a scattered pile of large concrete blocks and wet cement. It was all collecting in a pile of mud and water flowing out of the hill that was no longer retained by the wall that was no longer standing.

Rhonda left to assess the damage and negotiate with the construction company.

Phil and Elsha returned with us to the pavilion. They were building their own villa outside the town, and were staying with Rhonda until their construction was done.

As we talked with them, the sky threatened with thunder, and it started raining. We spent the next few hours protected from the rain under Rhonda's thatched roof, talking with Phil and Elsha about politics, philosophy, and the economics of building, owning, and renting out villas. When the rain finally stopped, they joined us back at the main road to continue our conversation over an early dinner at a local restaurant.

Cycling Kintamani and Mt. Batur

After a day of unmapped and unstructured biking through rice paddies, the next day we signed up for an organized bike tour of the Kintamani and Mt Batur areas, and then down through the back roads of Bali to the village of Pejeng.

The easiest part of the tour was the climb to Kintamani - they toted us to the top by van.

On the way up, we stopped at a coffee plantation for Lewak coffee. Not being a coffee connoisseur (or even a coffee drinker), I didn't know what that meant. It turns out there is a little animal the locals call the Lewak that lives in the trees and eats the coffee berries. They cannot digest the coffee beans, which allegedly ferment in the lewak's stomach and digestive tract. This supposedly imparts a richer, heavier flavor.

The lewaks poop these things out like Baby Ruths in Caddyshack, which the locals then collect, clean, and roast like any other coffee bean.

I wish I had learned the full story before I cavalierly ate a few whole beans out of the roasting pan.



After coffee and some local fruit (presumably not processed the same as the coffee), we continued up the mountain for breakfast overlooking Mt Batur and Lake Batur.

Mt. Batur is an active volcano and we could see the still-black scars and burnt trees along its sides. Lake Batur is the largest lake on the island of Bali.

From here we began the real bike trip: an easy descent, as the van already did the hard work bringing us to the top. The ride was incredible, making it easy to overlook a few mishaps due to lackadaisical bike maintenance.

On the way down we followed little back roads, where we met local villagers going about their daily routines. We rode through rice fields and farmland. We passed innumerable Hindu temples and traditional Balinese family compounds. We watched the landscape and villages change as we descended from the cooler mountain air into the warmer wetlands.

We finished the day, riding into the village of Pejeng, where we enjoyed a traditional Indonesian meal, before returning to our hotel for warm showers and lazy swim in the hotel pool.

Bangkok, Thailand

We took a weekend getaway to Bangkok back in November. But I never updated our blog or posted any photos until now. I blame facebook.

I blame facebook for making it easy to update my current status without actually writing anything of substance. Facebook gives me a superficial feeling similar to writing a blog, when really all I've done was written "Eric is at work again."

Our trip to Bangkok was just a couple of weeks just before anti-government the protestors took over the parliament offices and shut down the international airport. In Thailand, there is some form of politically-inspired violence almost every day. But we felt safe the entire time we were there; in fact, we were looking forward to seeing the Thai political process in action. Unfortunately, we never saw any demonstrations or other political activity while we were there.

Our Singaporean colleagues warned us away from Thailand because of protests, demonstrations, and general ongoing political strife. But Singaporeans are squeamishly uncomfortable with any sort of political speech, so we didn't give their concerns much credence.

Coming from Santa Cruz, California, political protests don't faze us. To the contrary, I was looking forward some meaningful political strife. Most of what you see in Santa Cruz, is pointless posturing over intangible concepts, trivial slights, or other random thought occurs to you on the way to a city council meeting.

In the US, our political grievances are mundane compared to the problems of the rest of the world. We hold peaceful elections every 4 years. Even when the popular vote selects a different president, we allow power to transfer peacefully from one president to another until we correct our mistake. We might grumble under a failed presidency that misunderestimates the economic and political temperament of the nation, but we'll wait patiently for new elections to lawfully replace the current administration.

In Thailand, they ignore elections altogether. They do keep a roughly 4-year cycle, but instead of electing a new government every 4 years, they have a coup (or at least an attempted coup) on average every 4 years. When the Thai ruling party misunderestimates their nation, they are physically removed from offices with much shouting and gesturing.

So it was after work on a Friday in November that we flew to Thailand. It was a short trip from Singapore, and a perfect weekend getaway. But you have to be prepared for a murky Monday morning after maximizing your weekend in Bangkok.

We stayed in Bangkok's Chinatown area.

If you've ever visited San Francisco, you probably think of Chinatown as a diverse tourist-friendly neighborhood combining a genuine ethnic enclave with bustling commercial kitsch.

Not Bangkok's Chinatown. This is not so tourist friendly. More enclave than kitsch. Nearly all of the sights we wanted to see are located out of Chinatown area. And Bangkok traffic makes getting in or out of Chinatown a serious hassle.

So, we avoided the traffic and mostly walked out of Chinatown. Our first stop was Khaosan Road. This neighborhood is a big hangout for the international backpacking set (western 20-somethings on trust fund walkabout before starting that big investment banking career). Not that there's anything wrong with that; if there is one group of people who really know how to party, it's definitely those folks. And they have the time and resources to devote themselves wholeheartedly to the calling.

Whatever its reputation for partying at night, Khaosan Road is not very happening during the day. So, while the party boys and girls were still sleeping, we did some touristy shopping and availed ourselves of the local Starbucks for reliable coffee and internet access. We found some good Thai food and some local beer.

We spent most of our days in Bangkok just wandering around by foot or taking the sky train. We also took the water taxi along the river, from one side of Bangkok to the other. In the evenings, we switched to regular taxis and tuk-tuk rickshaws.

When we were in Mumbai, India, the taxis were expensive and you had to negotiate the prices in advance, while the tuk-tuks were metered and cheap. In Bangkok it was the opposite, so we mostly stuck to taxis, but we still enjoyed a couple of short tuk-tuk rides.

We were also warned that some dishonest drivers may try to divert us from our intended destination. You'll end up in their friend's store or some other place where they get kickbacks from the shop-owner. We did not have that experience from any of our drivers.

But we were offered some unsolicited "help" from a concerned pedestrian who told us that the shopping area we were looking for was closed for holidays. He volunteered to direct us to another shopping area. We declined. We found our destination ourselves. Yes, it was open for business.

Since this was our first trip to Bangkok, we found that walking around and taking public transportation is the best way to explore a new city. We followed the river and small canals. We walked the main streets and small alleyways. We went to the parks and commercial districts. We watched people working and playing.

At night, we went back to Khaosan Road for cocktails and dancing. We found the dance clubs kept the music playing right up to the end of the evening.

When I say "right up to the end of the evening", I mean that literally. Back in the US, the bars and clubs give you some sort of warning before closing time. They announce "last call", they start playing slow songs, or flicking the lights, etc. In Bangkok, the DJ keeps things spinning loud and fast right up until the very last minute the bar is permitted to be open. On that exact moment, they abruptly shut everything down with no cooling-off period. One moment, you're dancing. The next, you're squinting under sharp house lights and being herded towards the door.

But it wasn't all drinking and dancing. There was also lots of eating. When you go to Thailand you have to have as much Thai food as you can.

Being westerners with sensitive stomachs, we can't drink the water or eat the street food without getting sick. I managed to stay fine all weekend, but I was feeling a little ill on the flight home. Deanna knows a co-worker who enjoys the street food so much that she eats everything and just plans for being sick. She arranges her vacation so she gets sick on her timeline.

I can't say for sure if my queasiness on the return flight was due to the food, the drink, the dancing, or the lack of sleep. Whatever the cause, though it's the proper way to be sent home from Bangkok: tired, hung-over, and happy.

Happy New Year 2009!

Some good friends invited us to join them at their local "neighborhood bar," the 1TwentySix on East Coast Parkway. We sat outside in the warm Singapore evening. The bar had a band and a DJ to help us ring in 2009. You can't see from this picture, but we danced so hard we had sweat spilling out of us.

Or maybe it was wine spilling out. The bar had a voucher system. The cover charge came with five tickets, each ticket good for one drink. Or you could combine 6 tickets and have them bring a bottle of wine. When you ran short of tickets, they cheerfully let you "top up" the difference with cash. I lost count of the bottles of wine the waiters brought, so its a good thing I was busy dancing most of the night.

My new year resolution: dance more.