M-whY

Immediately, I found the tour operator inferior to yesterday's. He was quiet and reserved, and spoke poor english. The few times he did talk to me, I could barely understand him. His role was strictly limited to driver. At each stop, he would remain in the car while I went off to explore on my own. There would be no commentary along the way.

Bainese dances are a big hit here, so I saw one just to see what the commotion was all about. Performed twice a year for locals at special ceremonies, the rest of the time they are on display at tourist venues. There are several different types of Balinese dances. The one I attended was the Barong-Kris, which can be simply summed up as a fight between good and evil mythical creatures. I found the whole thing tacky and unauthentic. I doubt the real thing had foreign languages mixed in for the amusement of the audience. The only thing I got out of it was the right to say I've seen one.

The van didn't have air conditioning, but that turned out not to be a big deal since it was comfortable enough with the window down. We drove down the countryside, where laborers were hard at work in the rice fields. My tour was basically a temple tour, meaning I would be taken to see a couple smaller temples along the way before culminating in the mother temple of Bali, Pura Besakih. KlungKung was our first stop, to see Sema Pura Complex. I found it decidedly so-so and quickly returned to the van to move on. Goa Lawah temple was far more interesting. To enter, I needed to rent a sarong. As I paid the marginal fee, a young man approached me, offering his services as a guide.

It was a simple, polite, offer. Most people gave him a couple dollars, he said, but I could choose to pay him whatever I wanted. His demeanor was refreshing, so I agreed to let him show me around.

There are nine major temples around Bali, embodied by a swastika. Each of the eight points on the outside represented a temple, and in the center stood Besakih. Goa Lawah is one of the eight. Also known as Bat Cave temple for the millions of bats that lived there, it is believed to be connected to Besakih, some 25kms away, via an underground tunnel. No one has ever verified the rumor though, since the cave narrows into a thin shaft infested with snakes and even more bats.

The temple was small, and the tour was brief, so my guide took me across the street to a black sand beach where a ceremony was taking place. Everytime someone passes away, family and friends would come to the temple to perform the ceremony. I observed at a distance and didn't take any pictures as I wasn't sure if it would be appropriate.

I'm not a great judge of character (just look at the friends I keep), but this young man's seemed like a nice, honest person. I was in no hurry to return to my driver, so we returned to the temple steps where we sat down to have a chat. Ever since the Bali blast in 2002, business has been slow, he admitted. Prior to the blast, Bali had a booming tourist industry, and enough visitors would trickle down to Bat Cave temple for him to guide 8-10 people a day. Nowadays, he was lucky to get three.

"How much did your driver cost?" he asked.

"About 200,000 rupiah. Is that too high?" I figured since he had been around for a while, he might know.

"Two hundred is good, most tourists pay between two hundred and four hundred, some people pay even more." He had no reason to lie, and I believed him. "Will he be your driver tomorrow too?"

"I don't have anything planned for tomorrow yet."

"I show you around the island tomorrow? I try to do some business with you. I take you anywhere you want to go."

I had thought about leaving Bali tomorrow, but there were a few things I had yet to see. His proposal intrigued me.

"You have a car?"

"No, but I have motorbike. If you don't mind riding on a motorbike."

Sitting in the back of a motorbike probably wouldn't be as comfortable as riding in a van, but accepting his offer meant I fitting more sights in one day. Tours were inflexible in their routes, often taking you only on preplanned itineraries. Plus, I was tired of giving my money to the ruthless operators in Kuta Beach.

"Okay." I gave him the name of the place I'd be staying at. "Nine o'clock tomorrow? Don't be late!"

I rose to leave and handed him a couple dollars. He refused to take it.

"I will see you tomorrow," he announced cheerfully.

Before I left, he advised me on what to expect in Besakih. The temple is nice, but the people there are not so nice, he told me. They will tell you you need a guide, and try to charge you US$30. But you don't need a guide, you can visit by yourself. If they stop you, just tell them you have been there before and keep walking.

My new friend was right. While I paid a small entrance fee, they also tried to sell me a guide. I declined and just kept going. It was about a 1km uphill walk from the carpark to the temple itself. At the top, some young punks stopped me and told me I wasn't allowed inside without being accompanied by a local.

For a moment, I hesitated. It seemed like every other tourist had paid the thirty dollars to be guided around. I decided to call his bluff.

"I know I don't need a guide."

"We are guardians of the temple, you cannot enter unless we show you around."

"I've been here before. I know I don't need a guide."

"It is new regulation."

Now I knew I had them. "I was here last week." And with that, I walked confidently past them. They didn't follow.

Besakih is actually a collection of 23 temples, and though my Lonely Planet described the architecture as not particularly impressive, it was the best I had seen so far. Not all the courtyards were open to visitors, but enough of them were that it made for a decent walk. From the top, there were some nice lookouts to Bali's landscape. While I explored, some of the guides gave me funny looks. I guess they weren't too happy that I hadn't fallen for their expensive scams.

That pretty much concluded the trip, and on our way back, I asked the driver to drop me off in Denpasar instead of Kuta Beach. From Denpasar, it would be easier to plan my journey west. He dropped me off at the corner I specified, but Denpasar's street labels were a little confusing and it took me a while to find the homestay I wanted to stay at.

The owner of the place was friendly and spoke english. He showed me to my room, which was just as nice as the hotel in Kuta Beach, but cost only US$5 a night. Now I could've just called it a day, but I knew I wouldn't be staying here long, as I needed to leave Bali soon, but I wanted to have a look around the city before I left.

For the capital of a tourist haven, Denpasar had an unexpected business feel to it. No one hassled me for being a tourist. I stumbled upon a bustling market, where all sorts of food products from fruits and vegetables to meat and seafood were being sold. Trucks, motorbikes, and people shared the same walkways, making the paths crowded and sometimes difficult to navigate. I bought some exotic fruits, as my room didn't include a kitchen for me to prepare a cooked meal. No one spoke english, but with some hand gestures, I managed to buy some dinner.

Maybe not the most balanced of meals, but it was pretty filling!

Thanks to everyone for their support and comments! Knowing people are reading keeps me motivated to continue the updates!