My Dearest Bali
I left it at home….
My cares, that is.
I left my concerns about if I’m good enough at my job, the worry that my shorts wouldn’t fit, I left the anxiety over what’s to ensue when I return, and I gave up the need to control, well, what I couldn’t. I left the US with heaviness in my chest and a hardness in my spirit that I had not been able to shake. I also wasn’t completely sure why it existed in the first place.
It’s an interesting thing to experience. Transporting half way across the world, to an unfamiliar place, with no expectation other than it was about to be an opportunity to learn, grow, and widen my eyes. And boy were they widened.
Stepping off the plane in Denpasar, the air was warm and thick with humidity. It smacked us in the face like a hot wet washcloth. However, it was very much welcomed after 30 hours of travel where the plane pushed stale air and we’d been fixed inside the Singapore airport for a lengthy layover. Exhaustion was swiftly replaced with elation as our eyes swallowed up every ounce around us. Captivated by building facades, the non-existent stop lights, narrow streets that left little margin for error, motor bikes that ultimately ruled the roadways, and shops lined up for blocks, selling hand carved wood work, rattan furniture, dream catchers, farm flowers, and grocery goods. To go 5 miles took roughly 20 minutes given the old infrastructure of the roadways and motor bikes, but it left us with more time to savor the sights.
Our driver was a pro at shifting through the braid of traffic in Ubud. Our guide, De, was perched in the front seat of our van, microphone in hand and contagious grin across his face, providing us with fascinating facts and history of the sights as we moved past them. Ancient architecture and temples made up a large portion of the structures along the streets. Shops and markets weaved their businesses in front of and beside the architecture, fitting in to whatever sliver of space they could construct.
A tight squeeze in to a dusty side driveway revealed a magical landscape that we collectively gasped in awe of.
KajaNe Resort - like a secret hideaway, only to be seen through a bamboo cover archway, displayed wild palms and wood plank walkways that lead us over and through a rice field, where the afternoon sun illuminated the field to a shade of green that was so vivid, it felt utopian. Smokey scents of frangipani, jasmine, and sandalwood sailed through the thick blanket of warm still air. We were welcomed by a couple of friendly women who presented us with a tray of refreshing cool tea. Blissful flavors of ginger, jasmine, palm sugar, and black tea swirled around our mouths in absolute delight. We were in paradise.
tegallalang rice fields and terrace swing
luwak coffee education & tasting - lumbung sari house
kanto lampo waterfall - gianyar
flower bath at KajaNe Resort - Ubud
The boat soared over the Bali Sea, cutting through rough waves with ease and quickness. Approximately 60 or so passengers filled every seat on the small express boat. We were eager to get to the top of the boat and feel the salty winds sweep over our faces and bask in the intensity of the sun. For those moments, it felt as though we were the only ones cresting that water. A soft shadow ahead revealed our destination. The Gili Islands are just a spit from Lombak and approximately a one and a half hour boat ride from Bali. Three small islands make up Gili: Gili Trawangan - known as the party island, Gili Air - offers a more relaxing experience while still providing some low-key nightlife, and Gili Meno - the smallest and most quiet of the islands, a place to truly leave your cares behind. Our boat was headed for Gili Air, which means “Little Island of Water” in Indonesian.
Exiting the boat on to the dock of Gili Air, we were welcomed by local market vendors eager to share their goods with arriving guests. Beaded bracelets, fabric fans, vibrant colored sarongs, and shell necklaces were among the treasures they offered. With their smiles so warm, it was a challenge to keep walking, but fellow passengers began to spill out of the boat, quickly filling up the narrow dock.
Small boats rocked along the shore’s edge in rhythmic form, swaying from our express boat’s arrival. Men tended to their boats, loading their guests for snorkeling excursions. Passengers leaving Gili Air on the next boat were crowded for shade under the fixed awning. The sun was barreling down on us, nearly disorienting, but the thrill of the sights around us kept us occupied from the heat. The Gili Air welcome sign was getting a face lift. A couple of men were drilling bright yellow and red pieces together. By the end of our venture on Gili Air, the sign was complete and my heart sank. “Welcome to Gili Air Island”, it read. I wanted to stay….
There are no motor vehicles or bikes on Gili. You get around by boat, walking, bicycle, or by horse and carriage. De could be overheard talking with the locals, arranging our horse and carriage for our luggage to be transferred to our accommodations. Within moments, two arrived. The horses were quant, dressed in bright colored accessories of bells, ropes, and tassels. We were reassured they were very well loved and taken care of. It was noticeable by their well maintained manes, tails, and demeanor.
Our senses were overwhelmed as we walked along the shoreline to our accommodations. Lean trees reached up and over, providing shade from the harsh sun. The sounds of a tropical summer swept out from the open air shops and warungs, as did the delicious aromas of satays, fried bananas, and spices our noses had never experienced before. Local shop and warung owners greeted us with wide smiles and welcomed us to the island, asking if we would return for cocktails and coconuts during the slightly cooler evening. We kicked up sand along the way, kittens crossed our paths with operatic meows looking for affection, and fellow visitors were lounging in wooden booths accompanied by pillows and cushions lined up along the shore. Bicycles and horse carriages weaved between us with ease. A group of school children could be heard singing in a small field while cows grazed nearby and men with horse carriages waited for their next reservation.
For many Gili locals, their livelihood is often connected to their residence, with their shop or restaurant presenting along the sandy street of foot traffic and their family going about their daily activities to the rear. Side streets towards the center of Gili give you a peek into daily life. Locals are often cooking in their outdoor kitchen, pots and pans hang along their house wall, cooking oils placed on the ground in large gallon cartons, and chickens frantically run a muck around the property with the occasional rooster perching himself high atop a table to crow mightily at the passersby. Women bicycle to the markets, some with a small sack to their chest, but at close glance, revealing a small newborn baby tucked snuggly to the mother’s bosom, and a toddler clinging to the mother’s back with a bright smile.
On Gili Air, a resort on the west side of the island, called Pinkcoco, is a hot spot. Donning hot pink EVERYTHING, from umbrellas and beach lounge sacks, flamingo figures that greet guests at the entrance to the pool, pink coconuts to sip from complete with a branded “pinkcoco” logo, and a line of pink bicycles, of course, for hotel guests. The PINKBOAT could be seen cruising the Bali Sea, offering guests snorkeling adventures, island transfers, fishing, or a sunset cruise. We biked our way along the perimeter of Gili to catch sunset hour at Pinkcoco. The staff greeted us with cool damp clothes smelling of bright jasmine and neroli, soothing our sweltering faces and necks. The heat had crept to 89 with a humidity of nearly the equal, leaving us a bit soggy and parched upon our arrival. Well worth it. We sipped on fanciful libations while we nibbled on breads, homemade hummus, and fresh rolls, plump with julienne cucumbers, carrots, and healthy portions of ripe juicy mango. It was no wonder so many had migrated to this side of the island for sunset. A cape of pink draped over the water, boats were merely a grayscale shadow swaying softly above. A couple, on horseback, strolled along the shore. The horse sauntered through the shallow water, undoubtedly taking a prime opportunity to find cooling relief. The hue of the sky was something unreal, unimaginable, unknowing to the human eye. It went on for miles without an end.
beach bali cafe - final family dinner
Glistening skin, bronzed by nine days of paradise, wrists dressed with handmade braided and beaded bracelets, pucca shells, market dresses and sarongs. As our Balinese adventure was coming to a close, our hearts were wide open. What had been left behind at home had stayed. For that brief time, we were scooped up and placed somewhere wonderful and sacred. Where the people are compassionate and what matters most are their families and one another. Where their blessings outweigh their obstacles.
Little did I know life could move at such a pace.
Time of day did not exist. We watched the sun exhale early daylight over and through the dense greenery of palms from our room every morning in Ubud. Vibrant hibiscus flowers and birds of paradise, too exquisite to be real, came to life in the glimmer of the early morning glow.
As we enjoyed a late afternoon dip in the resort pool, a call to prayer warmly filled the air, and sang over a choir of birds, a beautiful harmony. I spun on to my back to hover over the still water, softly I closed my eyes and took in the beautiful blessing.
Time moved at a measure unearthly.
The days were long, but not in an unpleasant way, rather they were long in the way that felt like a gift. An opportunity to wholly embrace each minute, to savor the fullness from a meal of nasi goreng or tahu and tempe, to delight in the surroundings of meticulously landscaped rice terraces, ornate ancient temples, elephants stretching their trunks in anticipation of the fruit held in a basket by a young sparkly-eyed tourist. To run our hands over a rainbow of street market sarongs, gaze wide-eyed at the boxes upon boxes of fresh coconuts, durian fruit, and mangosteens, and gleefully watch acrobatic monkeys soar from tree top to tree top overhead. Backpackers and youthful twenty-something free-spirits leisurely bicycled to their next adventure or to retreat to the sand and relish in the cloak of warmth from the soaring sun with a chilled Bintang beer in hand.
The only urgency of time was in the curiosity of when we’d discover the next Balinese coffee shop, or when we’d be leaping into the pool to find respite from the broil of the midday peak sun.
Time lingered as we chased the burning pink horizon to bid farewell on another magical day on the island of the Gods.
WHAT I LEARNED….
A chargeable hand fan was the best purchase I’ve ever made
Bringing LMNT electrolyte packets and protein bars was life changing
Magnesium is necessary for proper rest and recovery
Every body is a swimsuit body
A carry-on suitcase is absolutely possible - practice beforehand and process of elimination of items is crucial
It is okay to not check email or socials while on vacation - READ THAT AGAIN
Go with an open heart and no expectations and you’ll be wildly surprised!
All photos captured by Sarah Gray of Gray Mountain Photography
Group trip coordination by Trova Trip, hosted by Girlfriend Getaway Guide
Immense appreciation to our guide, De, who could light up a room with his smile and kindness. His knowledge, care, and patience was top tier and we owe him a world of gratitude! Thank you, Trova, for providing us with De and such a memorable experience!