World cruise 26

February 26

The ship is docked at Benoa, Bali, Indonesia. This morning Sallie and I took Margaret out for her first taste of Indonesian shopping near the port terminal. Here we are at the land side entrance's tourist photo op.

The salesmen are aggressive and bargaining is the norm. Actually, they weren't too bad today. My wheels came to a quick stop where tree roots had made the brick pavers uneven, so I headed back through the phalanx of taxi drivers into the relative calm of the terminal and did a tad of shopping there. Margaret survived the experience, even when Sallie made her do the bargaining for a fan.

We had an early dinner because our tour left at 5:30 p.m. We boarded a bus designed for short, skinny Indonesians rather than taller, fatter tourists and headed across Den Passar at rush hour. We had a very personable guide named Bitha who told us a lot about every day living as a Hindu in Balli which is 85% Hindu, and maybe 6% Muslim as opposed to the rest of Indonesia which is just about all Muslim.

We went to see a performance of the Kecak and fire dances. I was somewhat afraid that the accompaniment would be gamelan music, but it was an a capella men's chorus which had some aspects of gamelan music but was a lot more interesting.

As it got dark, the Kecak dancers did some spectacular playing with balls of fire which got kicked and thrown around the area. Margaret's photo is fuzzy but catches the idea. Then the fire dance involved a man in a type of horse costume repeatedly going through a fire of coconut husks.

We got back to our room just as a plumber arrived who, in minimal English, told us he was there to fix the toilet. He proceeded to take it completely apart into its component pieces all over the bathroom floor. So we abandoned him to the task and took our knitting and crocheting downstairs. There we spent a pleasant time with hot chocolate and cookies listening to a musical group called Adagio. It is 2 men from one of the Eastern European countries who play violin and piano. They are very good and play everything from classical to show tunes. While they do vary the style to fit the piece, overall I would have to describe their style as boogie-woogie-gypsy.

February 27

Still at Benoa, Bali. Up and at 'em this morning to take an all day tour to the village of Tenganan where weavers make beautiful, traditional cloth, and Tirta Gangga also known as the Water Palace. It was all very interesting and scenic.

For reasons of access ... and extra knee room as the bus was not full ... Margaret and I were sitting in the rear seat which was, of course, out past the rear wheels. I can testify to the excellent condition of the rear springs because each bump and pot hole either sent us flying toward the ceiling or gave us whiplash front to back or side to side, and sometimes all 3 at once! Who needs a chiropractor when you've got a bus like that? I do! I'm firmly convinced that I lost over an inch in height from having my vertebrae jammed together on that bus. At least the air conditioning and PA systems worked. Our guide's English was a little iffy at times, but intelligible, and he really worked at being helpful. The driver was excellent, but more on that later.

This time we got to see the morning rush hour in Den Passar. After about a 2 hour bus ride, we reached the very quaint little village of Tenganan (which looked similar to others we had passed through, but without a petrol station). After one glance at the steep angle of the one main street with virtually no sidewalks and lots of traffic, I opted to stay in a patch of shade while Margaret went exploring the side streets and weaving rooms.

She also found a colorful "stable" of fighting cocks. Evidently the winner gets not only the betting money, but the bird for his dinner as well.

Next we went to a gorgeous boutique hotel on the beach called Rama Candidasa. The very narrow road (well, all roads on Bali are narrow except one or two near Den Passar) to the hotel was about 3 blocks long and had at least 10 huge speed bumps. Not even walkers could speed down that puppy! But the hotel was lovely, and so was the buffet lunch we had there. One of the dishes consisted of whole, peeled, hard boiled eggs in some sort of brown sauce which seemed designed to make them as slippery on your plate as the proverbial greased pig. That was fun.

On the way back out to the bus, it started to rain, but we were all on before the rain got heavy, so most of us were only damp which felt good in the bus air conditioning because the outside temperature and humidity were both in the high 80s to low 90s. And onward in the rain up a very snaky mountain road toward the Water Palace until we came around one curve and found a major stoppage.

The other bus on our tour was about 3 or 4 vehicles in front of us and first in line at a large acacia tree blocking the road, downed by the heavy rain and resting on a power line. One person we spoke to later from that bus said the branches were still shaking when they arrived. After cellphone consultation between guides, drivers, tour company, and probably the ship, it was decided that the 2 buses would turn around and take us elsewhere. Here's a photo of the other bus turning around.

Those 2 bus drivers had already proved their outstanding ability on those roads by getting us through places with literally less than 6 inches (total!) to spare. Now they managed to get the buses turned around on a very narrow, wet mountain road with traffic backed up at least a kilometer or more behind us, and tourists squealing in their ears. Oh, and motorcycles zipping by in an almost constant stream. I don't know how the motorcycles got past the tree, but they didn't come back up the road again. Sitting, as we were, in the last seat, Margaret and I had our tails very definitely out over the long drop as the driver backed his wheels to within an inch of the non-existent shoulder of the road. We were not the ones squealing, but I, for one, had a tight grip on the seat back ahead of me. A long round of heartfelt applause and calls of "Bravo!" ensued.

After some more discussion between us, the guides and their higher-ups, it was decided to take us to see some scenery with terraced rice paddies, then back to the ship a bit early. The paddies and other scenic items were interesting if a bit blurry in all our photos taken through the bus windows.

On arrival back on board, Margaret and I adjourned to the bar near the pool and had what the bartender called a "slurpee." It was a frozen daiquiri (classic lime flavor) served to each of us in a Hurricane glass with the "extra" in an old-fashioned glass with its own garnish. (I forgave Jill for the rain because we didn't really get wet, and it had provided for the adventure.)

Amazingly, by the time we got back to the ship, each person on that interrupted tour had a letter at their cabin apologizing for missing the Water Palace and refunding half the cost of the tour. That's the kind of thing that makes me prefer Holland America to other cruise lines.

This evening was Indonesian dinner night on board. All the dining room staff were wearing gorgeous shirts made from all different fancy Indonesian fabrics. I actually ordered and ate most of a dish called Rijstafel. It was spicier than my preference, but okay. Then very early to bed as all the tours leave astoundingly early tomorrow. Margaret's at 6:15 and mine at 7:05. Gack.