"I'm telling you, I can see daylight!"

From Darwin we caught an uneventful if bumpy flight with Garuda to Denpasar. The only really scary point was when we came in to land there was no land to see, and for a brief moment both Veronika and I thought that we were going to become the latest additions to Garuda's none-too-excellent safety record. However, it turns out that the runway at Denpasar airport is built on a spit of land reclaimed from the sea, so we actually had nothing to worry about. Arriving at the airport, we were delighted with the unusually friendly and helpful immigration officer, who kindly gave us 60-day permits even though our onward ticket was only a month away, giving us the option of changing our plans if we liked Indonesia, as I suspected we would. We flew with Mark Boswell, a friend we met in Australia who was just passing through Bali on a three-day layover, and we went with him to the notorious Kuta Beach. Kuta was the site of a small American-run hotel in the 1930s, and since the 1970s has witnessed rampant tourism development, ranging from five-star mega-hotels to cheap and cheerful (and some not so cheerful) budget places with facilities to match. We took a taxi from the airport, after being slightly depressed that our first sight of Asia was a Macdonald's billboard. The taxi ride left us in no doubt that we were somewhere different, as the slightly manic driver wove through traffic, deftly dodging the lunatic motorcyclists, and continuously honking his horn. The route from the airport to Kuta was a constant melee of traffic and people sharing the same space - as in Australia, pavements are something of a rarity here.

We arrived in Kuta with a recommendation for a hotel, but we were unable to find it, so rather than cart our luggage around while looking for a place, we left Veronika guarding our stuff while Mark and I went in search of some cheap place. In the end we found a very pleasant little place in a surprisingly quiet garden, given its location close to the main strip. Prices in Kuta seem to have risen considerably, but even so we ended up reasonably satisfied, although one place we checked seemed to be offended that we didn't want to spend $100 a night for a bed. We were definitely looking in the wrong place.

Kuta itself is basically a madhouse - a long white sandy beach and a few roads, and thousands of people selling anything from good-quality handicrafts, clothes and souvenirs to unbelievable junk, not forgetting the ubiquitous boys selling The Australian and The International Herald Tribune, all of course, for a "good price". We'd kind of got used to Australia's fixed price system, so it was a bit of a strain to have to get back into the hard-core bargaining mode we'd adapted to in Latin America.

One good thing about Bali is the coffee - locally grown, and served almost Turkish-style (the way we like it), but unfortunately not often strong enough for our Balkan-influenced taste buds.

After checking in to our hotel, we went for a wander. Having decided that the weather was simply too hot for us to wear our boots, we ended up buying a couple of pairs of "genuine" Nike rubber sandals, inevitably for a "good price". I also needed to stock up on some light-weight, tolerably cool clothing to compensate for my propensity for sweating and heat exhaustion, so I bought some extremely loud patchwork trousers to make up for the pair that had died while we were in Edinburgh (and which in fact came from Indonesia). We probably ended up paying too much, but when too much is three quid for a pair of trousers, you have to wonder ...

Saturday morning we went for a "swim" which might better be termed board-free surfing. Unfortunately our timing was not perfect - the beach, like everywhere else in town, is full to the brim of hawkers peddling their wares, but at least on the beach there is an unmarked line beyond which the hawkers are not allowed to go. Alas, though, the tide was in, so this line was under about a foot of water, so we were given no respite from the "plait your hair", "temporary tattoo", "es krim", "cold drink" and "T-shirt" brigades, not to mention the considerable incongruity of being offered "transport" while lying on the beach in our swimming costumes. We tried the whole range of excuses, none of which seemed to work. Even when I claimed quite truthfully that I didn't have any money, one enterprising lady offered to give me a massage and then accompany me back to the hotel (just to collect her money, I hasten to add!).

Alas Kedaton Monkey Forest

Giving up, and in danger of burning in the tropical sun, we retreated back to the hotel. There we met up again with Mark and went for some lunch. While walking around after lunch, we had an unusual offer: after being assailed for "transport", "rent car", "motorbikes" (even if you tell them you don't have a licence, it doesn't seem to matter), we were surprisingly offered a helicopter. Inevitably though it turned out to be a joke. One thing I must mention though is that all this hassling for the tourist dollar is done in a friendly way, almost always with a smile on the faces of the people doing the hassling - as you walk past a shop or a stall, the owners will call out to you "Hello, how are you" with a friendly grin.

Saturday night Mark and I went in search of a bar with a TV to watch the FA cup final. We eventually found a place selling over-priced beer and advertising a live broadcast of the game. The place was quiet but thankfully air-conditioned, and the staff had obviously been trained to be over-attentive - surprising as this may sound, it becomes tiresome when as soon as you put your beer down someone leaps up, grabs your empty bottle and asks you "more beer?". We were also irked by the fact that the game was not in fact shown live, but was delayed by an hour and a half for of all things a really crappy Kurt Russell film which I'd been unfortunate enough to see before on the flight from Buenos Aires to Sydney. In the end though we did get to see the whole game, so it didn't turn out too bad. By the end of the game, we were fairly well gone and decided to walk home. En route though we encountered the famous Sari Club and opted to go in for a "short while" to try out their legendary jungle juice. I don't know what they put in it (I'm not sure I want to either) but it tastes like fruit juice and has a kick like the proverbial mule. It must have been potent because I even ended up dancing.

Sunday was taken up with dealing with my hangover, arranging our bus trip to Ubud the next day and doing some serious sitting around trying to avoid the hawkers, although even if you stay in your hotel they come to you trying to sell you stuff.

Monday morning we caught the tourist shuttle bus to Ubud. Although normally such services are against our principles, getting from Kuta to Ubud by public transport was going to be just too much hassle - catch a minibus to Denpasar, another bus across Denpasar to change terminals, and then a third bus to Ubud itself. As soon as we stepped off the bus in Ubud we were accosted by accommodation touts trying to persuade us that their place was the best. In the end we chose a place not overly recommended by Lonely Planet simply because it had a swimming pool. The staff are really friendly, the swimming pool is surprisingly good for three quid a night for a double room, and the gardens are quite pretty. Also, a big bonus, it's quiet. We insisted though that they provide a mosquito net, to which the reply was "not many mosquitoes just now". Still we persisted, as if there was one mosquito in the whole of Ubud, almost without fail it would find Veronika and attack. Sure enough on our first night we were bitten while sitting outside - good thing we're up to date with our anti-malarial pills.

Ubud itself is not much of a town - in fact it was originally a small village that expanded to take in a number of surrounding villages - but it is reputedly one of the cultural centres of Bali, and also - this was the clincher for me - it has a place offering cooking lessons! Having enjoyed the food tremendously thus far, I was determined to learn at least the basics of Indonesian cooking.

On our first day in Ubud, we followed our usual tactic - wandering around checking out the place and trying to get a feel for the atmosphere. Our conclusion was that there were just as many people trying to sell pretty much the same things as in Kuta, but they were nowhere near as pushy in-your-face, and seemed even to have an inkling of the meaning of the word "no". Having said that, I would still like to meet someone offering me "bad price, for you very expensive".

The next day we decided to do a bit of tourism. First stop was the monkey forest at the end of the aptly named Monkey Forest Road in Ubud. The forest was a cool relief from the sticky heat of the town, and was something neither of us had seen before. We'd encountered a few monkeys in Central America (and heard a lot more, specifically the raucous howler monkeys at Tikal), but those that we saw were shy, timid creatures understandably reticent about human contact. The monkeys on Bali (macaques to be more precise) couldn't be more different. They're utterly used to having people around, and in fact will come up to you in the hope of some peanuts or a banana - if you have them and don't hand them out fast enough, they'll grab them from you, as I subsequently discovered in another monkey forest. I also learnt to my amusement that monkeys can swim - there were a group playing around a fountain and climbing a tree overhanging the fountain and a small crowd gathered to watch and to wait for one to fall in - eventually several jumped in one after the other and swam pretty well, much to the delight of the onlookers.

The Balinese have a religious reverence for monkeys and never harm them (except indirectly by clearing their forest habitats for agriculture) and indeed there are a number of temples scattered around the island dedicated to the monkeys. Also in the forest are a number of small local temples, and this provided us with our first opportunity to wear sarongs - in most temples on Bali you won't be allowed in without one of these eminently practical and highly comfortable all-purpose cloths - simply wrap it around your waist, tie a knot and away you go (or rather in you go). These were the first temples we visited on Bali, and gave us a gentle introduction to the architectural style and decorative forms for which Bali is justly famous.

On our return from the forest we had just enough time to ready ourselves to head off to one of Bali's most famous sights, the sunset at Tanah Lot temple. On the way we made a number of stops, first to see a beautiful valley with rice terraces and yet another new image for us - a palm tree forest. The view was spectacular, but unfortunately the rain (which despite the rainy season officially having ended some weeks ago continued for much of our stay in Ubud) dampened our enthusiasm a little, but did provide some respite from the heat. Next stop was Mengwi for the Pura Taman Ayun, or Royal Family Temple. This temple was originally built in 1634 and was in full use until 1891, when the Mengwi Kingdom came to an end. The temple has an attractive setting, surrounded by a pretty formal garden, which is in turn surrounded by a large moat.

Not much of a sunset really - but you should see the postcards!

Next, we came to Alas Kedaton, site of another holy monkey forest and home to, as the adverts put it, "big bats". Indeed the bats were big, and the monkeys were, well, monkeys, and even less backward about coming forward than those in Ubud. I was too slow in distributing the peanuts I'd bought to one monkey, who clambered up my leg, grabbed the bag of nuts, and then clambered down again. Instinctively I moved to take the bag back, but realised my mistake almost immediately as the monkey gave me an impressive display of fiercely sharp teeth and ferocious hissing. This forest site had an interesting spin on the tourist trap arrangement that is Bali - the entrance ticket included a free - and apparently compulsory - guide, who walked us around for about ten minutes, telling us nothing and merely shooing off with a large umbrella any monkeys who became too aggressive. At the end, she steered us towards the obligatory souvenir stalls and huddled us towards one particular stall which, of course, turned out to be hers. She then pleaded with us to buy something and was most disappointed when none of the five of us on our tour opted for any purchases.

Finally we reached the promised land of Tanah Lot, a beautiful little temple set on a rocky islet which at high tide is surrounded by water and at low tide is accessible by the tourist throngs. All along the cliffs overlooking the temple are cafes and bars with tables strategically positioned to best capture the sunset from the comfort of a bamboo chair with a refreshing and relatively expensive drink to savour the moment. Unfortunately for us, the late afternoon had been cloudy and so the sunset was so unexceptional as to be very difficult to actually discern. Still, we did our duty as tourists and took some photos, in the hope that one at least would capture the silhouette of the temple against the ocean and darkening sky. As usual though, it looked a lot better on the postcards. We also managed to see a sea snake wandering around Tanah Lot, and even encountered a couple of Slovenes among the hordes.

Next day was temple day, and we had a minibus all to ourselves, all for the princely sum of 70,000 rupiah (less than 6 pounds). First stop was Goa Gajah, or elephant cave. The cave is actually man-made, and is at least 900 years old. The entrance is dominated by a giant carving of a demon (a good one, though) with hands outstretched to catch any bad demons who might be foolish enough to try to sneak inside. The inside of the temple is nothing to write home about, but there are some very pretty carved fountains outside, and the entrance to the cave is a riot of sculptural detail, typically Balinese. Having made an offering to the gods (kindly provided by a local woman for, surprise surprise, a "good price"), we moved on.

Friendly demon - the work of fingernails

From Goa Gajah we headed off to Pura Penataran Sasih in Pejeng, formerly the state temple of the Pejeng kingdom. Its most famous item is the enormous Moon of Pejeng drum, the largest single-piece cast drum in the world. No-one's quite sure where it was made or how old it is (estimates range from 1000 to 2000 years), but it's over two metres long and elaborately decorated, a fact which is evident even though it is safely ensconced high up in a pavilion far from the madding crowd, although truth be told we were fortunate enough to visit the temple at a relatively quiet time.

Next was for me the highlight of the day, Gunung Kawi in Tampaksiring. Gunung Kawi is a series of 10 candi (shrines) carved into the face of a cliff overlooking a river valley. The shrines themselves are 7 metres high and were supposedly carved by the fingernails of Kebo Iwa in a single night; Kebo Iwa is also credited with carving (again in a single night, again with those amazing fingernails) Goa Gajah. In the area of Gunung Kawi we also walked through some rice fields to a small waterfall in an attractive setting. The waterfall was nothing spectacular but was quite pretty, but on the way there we saw an enormous spider's web with a spider which must have been at least eight inches across and had bright-yellow legs. Given nature's way of providing warning signs about poisonous creatures in the form of colour, we studiously avoided taking a closer look at this giant arachnid.

The day's travel continued with a visit to Tirta Empul. This is the site of the source of the river Sungai Pakerisan, which flows past Gunung Kawi just a short distance away. The actual source is surrounded by a wall, and a variety of multi-coloured fish swim in the crystal-clear water. It is possible to see the precise point where the water originates, as the mud bubbles up under the water in a strangely hypnotic fashion. From this walled-off area, the water is channelled through elaborately carved stone spouts into a couple of bathing pools. Since the water is reputed to have curative properties, it is a very popular and sacred spot for the Balinese, and indeed there were many people praying at the temple and bathing in the water while we visited. The actual temple was built in 964, although according to a guide we overheard, the source has been developed and used for over 2000 years.

We moved on to Penelokan, which was both infuriating and awe-inspiring. The reason for going there was to get a view of Lake Batur and Gurung Batur overlooking the lake. The mountain is actually a volcano, and both Veronika and I were reminded of Lago de Atitlan in Guatemala, except if anything this lake is even more beautiful. Penelokan is the best vantage point for viewing the lake, and as such is a well-organised tourist trap. Normally we like being the only tourists around if at all possible, but on this occasion we could have done with a busload of rich tourists to ease the hard-sell pressure brought to bear on us by the innumerable salespeople. As soon as we stepped out of our minibus we were accosted by people trying to sell us chopsticks, (admittedly beautiful) chess sets, T-shirts, and god knows what else. We genuinely didn't have any money with us, but they refused to believe us; actually this would have worked well as a bargaining tactic if we had in fact had some money with us, as the chess sets fell in price from 200,000 rupiah to 50,000 rupiah and we could have probably bought them for even less. By this stage the prices were so good we began to wish that we actually did have some money with us, which made us realise that it was time to move on. I did have enough small change to buy some passion fruit and some rambutan (an Indonesian cousin of the lychee).

Our last stop of the day was at Pujung for an extraordinarily beautiful view of some rice terraces. Again we were accosted by the salespeople; again we had to insist that we had no money. One guy was determined to make a sale and suggested I borrow money from the driver and even stuck his hand through the window as we were driving off in a vain attempt to persuade me. On the way back from Pujung to Ubud, the inevitable happened: all the way through Bali there are countless dogs who are left to wander aimlessly around the streets, hectic traffic and all. One dog was too indecisive, and changed direction several times before running under the axle of our minibus just in time for our driver to hit him with a sickening crunch. The driver was profusely apologetic, but in all honesty there was nothing he could have done about it, but it did mean that much of the rest of the journey back to Ubud was made in silence.

Thursday was a day given over to lounging around; not for the first time I took advantage of the swimming pool in the hotel, and used the time to catch up with War and Peace, which I have finally got round to reading. Thursday evening I checked my email and found that there was some work waiting for me from Amidas, so Friday was spent doing that. Saturday I finished off my translation and started working on this page, and then Sunday was a day for souvenir shopping. Our original plan had been to buy some stuff and then ship it back to Danijela, Veronika's sister in Ljubljana, but for some reason the Indonesian postal service is unable (unwilling?) to ship stuff to Slovenia. The neighbouring countries are not a problem, but Slovenia apparently is. In the end we contacted our friend Kerrie in Italy, who willingly agreed to be the recipient of a consignment of souvenirs from Bali. So on Sunday, having sorted that out, we bought a beautiful mask, some slightly-cheesy but really cute monkey carvings, a nice set of coconut-wood chopsticks and a few other bits and pieces.

On our first night in Ubud, we discovered a cheap little warung (cheap restaurant) called Arie's Warung. Not even given a mention in Lonely Planet Indonesia, this place is an absolute delight. as soon as we arrived the first night, Arie greeted us with his famous grin and showed us his customer comments book. The very first page was in Slovene thoroughly recommending the place, and it seemed a common complaint that most people only found Arie's on their last night in Ubud, so we would appear to have struck it comparatively lucky. Good food at good prices, service not so much with a smile as with an infectious grin, and helpful friendly information about what to see and do in the area make Arie's one of those places to go back to again and again. So we did.

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