Singapore & Bali – January 2020

We are waiting for a large turquoise suitcase to arrive on the belt at Singapore airport.  One appears but a small Asian guy picks it up. There is no way that guy could lift 28.5kg that easily, so it definitely doesn’t belong to Mrs K.  She has made full use of the Singapore Airlines generous baggage allowance.  There is a baggage handler out there somewhere with a sore back. 

It's another early-in-the-year escape for Mrs K and I and we will be away for the UK's exit from the EU. Hopefully Mrs K (a Maltese immigrant - sort of) will be let back in.  This time we are off to Bali in Indonesia with a short stop in Singapore on the way.  We've never been to either before so we are both very excited.  Mrs K says she is going to get my Zen up again.  That could take some doing.

Our room in Singapore is on level 42 of the Westin hotel and has floor to ceiling glass windows providing a spectacular vista over downtown Singapore.  That includes the bathroom where the bath is adjacent to the window.  If there are any JPMorgan bankers working on a Sunday morning gazing out of the window for inspiration they could get more than they bargained for.  I’m not sure why but I am compelled to tune in to some Level 42 – won’t mean much or appeal to anyone under the age of 50. 

It has been a 17-hour door to door journey but a smooth one so we head out for the evening.  Like most virgin tourists we are drawn to the Marina Bay Sands hotel.  It’s the one with 3 towers and what looks like a surfboard on top.  We pay top dollar to sit in a restaurant across the bay and watch the light show.  Later we come across the end of an open air concert to celebrate the New Year but we can’t work out if it is the Gregorian or Lunar New Year.  It’s the Year of the Rat on 25^th January.

On Sunday, we leave the hotel for a light (and rather late) breakfast but it seems Singapore shuts down on Sundays.  We have worked out how to get an online cab with Grab (the local version of Uber – Sian will be proud of us) and we head out to the Singapore Botanic Garden.  It’s a vast area of greenery, lakes and tropical trees and plants, not to mention some wildlife.  There are some amazing venues for concerts with manicured lawns in large natural amphitheatres.  This morning small kids are enjoying the open space.  Lots of families are out for a Sunday stroll including families of turtles.  It’s very warm but nice for a very gentle wander.  Watch out for the teenagers though.  Almost without exception every teenager we have seen in Singapore walks around looking at their phone rather than where they are walking.  I did see one girl with two phones on the go.  There are 5.6m people in Singapore in a space of about 17 miles square.  Only a fraction of them are here to enjoy the gardens though.

Sunday afternoon we have booked tea at the Raffles Hotel.  Skipping breakfast and lunch was a very good idea.  The hotel is a step back in time to colonial days - white polished marble floors, a fabulous atrium, chandeliers – the works.  We are seated and informed that our tea will last a maximum of 90 minutes. I try to order a Singapore Sling cocktail but the waitress tells me politely but firmly that they are only served at the Long Bar.  So I have been refused a drink and virtually shown the door before we get started.  But it is incredibly civilised.  There is a wedding reception going on so there is a bit of people watching going on. Mrs K accepts the offer of an extra scone.  I don’t, enough said.

After tea we waddle to the Long Bar.  There is a queue to get in but I eventually get to enjoy my Singapore Sling (for £20).  The cocktail was created in the 1920s as a drink for ladies to disguise the fact they were drinking alcohol, which wasn’t permitted at the time.  The floor is covered with peanut shells.  Every table has a small sack of peanuts in their shells.  The discarded shells are swept onto the floor and left there for the day.  You crunch your way to your table.  The lady seated at the table next to us is enthusiastically volunteering to take photos for all the groups around us.  It seemed rude to refuse her.  Cheers.

On Monday morning it is misty and overcast but it’s our last day and there are a few touristy things still to do. We are once again sitting opposite the iconic Marina Bay Sands Hotel, this time waiting for a boat. We will cruise the Singapore river which we are told is not really a river but a reservoir which provides drinking water for the city. Mrs K has had a look at the water and says she will still drink her water from a bottle thank you very much. It’s a short trip a little way up the river and back, accompanied by a cheesy commentary. 

We jump off the boat one stop before the round trip and walk over to the Marine Bay Sands development.  It is a vast complex which makes Westfield look like a corner shop.  It was obviously a bit much for one couple.

We find our way up to the 57^th floor of the hotel where there is a bar open to non-residents.  The swimming pool on the top floor is tantalisingly just out of sight to passing tourists.  Mrs K doesn’t like that.  In the bar I have a bottle of Guinness for £12.  Just the one drink then.  But the views of the city and also the impressive Bay Gardens and coastline are spectacular.

We decide to make a quick visit to Orchard Road (the Bond Street of Singapore except on a much bigger scale).  I want to take the MRT (underground) rather than another cab.  Mrs K doesn’t like public transportation but agrees.  We pay about £1 each for a 10-minute ride in an air conditioned and very comfortable train.  London has a lot of catching up to do.  I survive the trip to the shops.

Tonight we meet up with friends and then fly to Bali tomorrow for proper R&R.  Can’t wait.

Part 2

On Monday evening we meet up with David and Jill who, by chance, are passing through on business. We arrange to go to dinner at a restaurant called Level 33.  It is a short walk from our hotel but we discover that there is an underground network of walkways, mostly lined with shops and cafes which means we can get there without the long wait for a green man on every street corner.  I am especially proud of my sense of direction as we emerge from the underground inside the right building and just a few paces from the restaurant elevator.  On the 33rd floor it has to be the best view of the city you can get. 

The restaurant has its own micro brewery (claimed to be the highest in the world) and I go for the paddle of 5 beers to get the evening off to a good start. David joins me. We are on the balcony overlooking the bay and we secure a table at the front to enjoy the view. It’s a special evening.

Wednesday morning

Inhale... exhale. I am doing my best but probably inhaling and exhaling at twice the rate of our yoga instructor, Tatik.  We are at our retreat in the north of Bali - a place called Bedugul, about 2 hours from the airport. I have a theory that the number of times that drivers use their horn is related to how developed a country is. Our guy (Augustin) is making full use of his. But not as much as in India or Sri Lanka. I try to sleep but it’s hard to ignore the motorbikes whizzing past both sides of our car.

We drive up into the hills and arrive at our hotel on Tuesday afternoon in the middle of a thunder shower.  Our villa is down a very steep valley from the lobby and the funicular (or inclinator as they call it) is being maintained so we are offered a late lunch instead of negotiating the slippery steps down the hill.  From the restaurant we have a great view of the lush green valley and our villa for the next few days. 

It’s idyllic but there is one thing missing - other guests. Later that evening we return for our evening meal and again we are the only guests in the restaurant. Mrs K where have you brought me?  We ask the waitress. She admits it is a little quiet. Um…we haven't seen a single other guest in our first 6 hours of being here!

But this hotel wins the prize for the most creative towel art.

I get my best night's sleep so far in our wooden villa despite birds chirping on our roof all night.  We are up for a 7.30am yoga class and I am relieved to find 2 other couples there too, both American.

Afterwards we wait for the morning walk. Tatik doubles up as both yoga instructor and walk organiser and she will be leading us down the valley. The other guests head off for breakfast so it’s just us and Tatik. We are offered walking sticks.  I thought this was just a gentle stroll before breakfast?  About 10m into the walk I realise the sticks are a good idea. There is no health and safety standards being applied here as we follow a path which is muddy and slippery on a steep incline along the valley next to a fast running stream. Those Americans probably baled because their insurance didn't cover this kind of expedition. Our guide indicates a steep path where she normally takes 'younger' people but today we take the low road.  Just as well, we need to get back in time for breakfast.  We meet a few farmers in their fields. This is the vegetable growing area of Bali.  We see jackfruit, bananas, spinach, lemongrass, green beans, avocados amongst others and also a dog that didn't seem pleased to meet us. Tatik tells us there are no dangerous animals in Bali, though Mrs K has spotted some massive spiders. We pass several temples. The Indonesians seem to have a God for everything so they need a lot of temples. Our guide knows everyone we meet - she is a local girl.

By contrast the hotel is now buzzing. There is a convention going on for Indonesian air traffic controllers - about 10 of them all suited up in their uniforms. At the pool there is one other couple.  I level the scrabble at 1-1. Thank goodness.  Now starting to chill.

On Thursday, we skip yoga because we are leaving early. In our room is a leaflet about what to do in the event of earthquakes. We can see the local volcano in the distance. Is it active? It erupted in 2018! We decide to pass on the opportunity to climb the mountain – a trip which starts at 1.30am. We opt for the gentler drive north to visit the Gitgit waterfall. Now the hotel is overrun with Polisi (police) as well as the air traffic controllers. One of policeman is walking round with a machine gun. What kind of convention requires you to bring your firearms?

It is a short drive to Gitgit – about 45mins. We arrive and our driver leaves us to walk the 20 mins or so from the road down to the waterfalls. When we get there, we are the only ones there. Its pretty spot but not the most spectacular waterfall you have ever seen.

On the walk back we pass several gift stalls. Mrs K stops at one selling tea, cinnamon, vanilla pods and the like. In short order she has an armful of stuff because it is so cheap. I have to point out that IDR700 means IDR 700k which is about £40 not 4p. She settles for some lemongrass tea for a 50% discount after trying to walk away.

Our driver stops at a great spot for a photo between 2 lakes. He is expert at the panoramic shot on Mrs K’s phone. Nearby there is a guy with 3 pet bats which are the size of cats, hanging upside down. They are huge. “Would you like to hold one?”, he asks Mrs K. Mrs K runs to the car.

This afternoon we had another 90-minute massage and I think my Zen meter might have gone from 0 to 1. But that is mainly because I am 2-1 up in scrabble.

Tomorrow we will take a day trip to Ubud.

Part 3

On Friday morning, Mrs K says we can’t miss yoga 2 days running so at 7.30am we are in the studio again. The hotel general manager, who is our best buddy now, is there too.  He gets a shout out from the instructor who looks a bit nervous.  The only bit of the yoga class I am good at is lying on my back with my eyes closed. 

We have hired a driver for the day to take us to Ubud. As we pull out from the hotel car park onto the main road two hotel staff go out into the road with flags and whistles to stop the local traffic. We feel like VIPs. Our driver’s name is Mahendra. He gives me his card.  He is a university graduate. He has 1 wife and 3 kids. It’s too tiring to have than more than wife, he says. I can believe it. He splits his time between driving tourists round Bali and tending to his chilli farm. 

Mahendra gave us a bit information about Bali. Unlike our other driver, his English is very good and I don’t need Mrs K to act as interpreter. People in Bali organise themselves into communities with a leader. Following local laws and convention is much more important than what the national government says. Local communities support each other and share food with those that need it. But if you disobey the local laws you are in trouble.

Mahendra drops us at the monkey forest in Ubud, mainly because it has a decent car park. Ubud is a busy, bustling and cramped town with little room for parking.  We enjoy getting close to the monkeys. They don’t bother us but another tourist has an earring taken.

I reckon it is a ½km walk to the main street so we head off in 29C heat and full humidity.  We come across this family of monkeys on the outer wall of the sanctuary. Cute.

It turns out to be more like a mile walk (not my first error of the day). By the time we reach the Water Palace I am drenched in sweat. But it is a nice spot to sit and have a cool drink, looking at the lily pond.  

We take a plunge into Ubud market which has stalls arranged so closely that two people can’t pass easily. At almost the first stall we come to, Mrs K admires a coconut shell bowl. She is offered 4 for 500,000 Rupiah (about £30).  It seems that was an optimistic first price because when Mrs K shows indecision the price drops to 300k. Mrs K starts to walk. The shopkeeper has her hand on Mrs K's arm now. "OK, 250".  "I need to think about it" says Mrs K. “Madame, ok 200”. Mrs K is thinking about how they will fit into her kitchen, not the price. She says, "We will come back." We leave the stall. We hear a shout behind us. "Please madame, 100". We discover nearly every stall is selling the same bowls.  Mrs K decides she doesn’t want them after all. Tough world.

We find somewhere for lunch. For me the heat is so oppressive it has taken away my appetite....but I push through with yet another cocktail.

Mahendra comes to collect us from the restaurant and we are soon back in his comfortably air-conditioned minivan.  Next stop is to visit a place called Petulu where thousands of egrets (like herons) descend on a village. People say the birds are the spirits of the people exterminated in the 60s. I am looking forward to the photo opportunity of thousands of white birds spread out over a lake. But we arrive and there is no lake, just an ordinary street in a town. I must have imagined the lake when I was reading the guidebook. The trees are full of the birds. Mahendra warns us to watch out for bird poo. The road and the houses are covered in it. Sure enough, Mrs K is the lucky recipient of a present from above. Bit of a disappointment. Error no. 2.

Next stop is to visit rice terraces in the next town en-route back to the hotel. But Mahendra suggests we should go to the UNESCO protected area further west.  He also asks if we would like to visit some wood carving and art shops. Mrs K says yes. Error no. 3. We are both asleep in the back by now and Mahendra has taken a 2 hour detour to his mate’s shop. We dutifully browse around acres of finished artwork. The guy in the photo here had been working on this piece for 3 weeks. By that standard, there is about a million years of work in the shop. Who is ever going to buy all this?  Mrs K resists the urge.

We eventually get to the UNESCO site and it is very impressive. Rice fields are far as you can see on terraces cut into the hillsides. Apparently Obama was here last year. But doesn’t this force people to stay in a subsistence lifestyle? Just putting that out there.

Our hotel has changed from the Marie Celeste into Kings Cross station. It’s another conference today (this time Bank of Indonesia) and there is some kind of function being prepared for Saturday evening, which is the lunar New Year. A company appears to have invited all its employees and their families for a big knees up. They have a singer to keep the party going but it sounds more like karaoke. Next morning, the waitress tells us they have 200 guests for breakfast.

There is a big difference between Asian hotel staff and Asian tourists. One group is very polite and the other is extremely rude. You can work out which is which.

It is a good time to move on to our next stop but it was a nice place to stay.

We drive to Seminyak to our hotel on the beach. It’s amazing what you see transported on a small moped – a family of four.

We are greeted in reception by a glamorous looking young girl in 4-inch platform shoes and flares split to the thigh. Mrs K is noting the wafting vibe in this hotel – bit of a change from our previous home. Check-in takes place in the room while some poor chap struggles with Mrs K’s luggage. Our room is at the front of the hotel with an ocean view, a lounge and a balcony which is 17 paces long. We are told our butler will be along soon with our welcome drinks. I am thinking someone has made a mistake. After our butler has explained just about everything in our room, including how the TV remote works, he disappears. I am expecting a knock on the door and it to be the hotel manager telling us that we have been allocated the royal suite by mistake. The doorbell goes but the butler has brought the extra coffee that Mrs K asked for. So we settle in.

We are here until Saturday and have a couple of excursions planned. More on all that next time.

Part 4

This is an Australian owned hotel and we are surrounded by them.  Some Australians fit the huge generalisation I made about Asians in my previous excerpt.

On Monday morning yoga starts at a punishing 6.45am. My sleep patterns have been all over the place so this isn't as bad as it sounds. By the time we get back to England I will probably just about be on Bali time.

Our instructor takes the class in the rooftop bar area. It looks very different in the daylight.  We were here the previous evening to collect our free drink.  It was quiet but it was Sunday night.  The place is set up like a club. There is a rope downstairs with two attendants with a special pass to send the elevator to the correct floor. I clock the guy with the thin eyebrows, fully made up wearing high heels and wonder what kind of club it is.  We might return later in the week to see if it livens up.

During yoga we have a great view of the beach and the coastline though I am supposed to be focussed on my yoga poses.   Mrs K gets a treat when a fit young bloke turns up for the class without a shirt and places himself right in front of her. At the end of the class Mrs K is complimented on her performance by the instructor. Then he looks at me with a slightly pitying look and shrug of the shoulders. 

Luckily, I am 4-2 up in scrabble.

I haven't really mentioned the weather much. This is the wet season which means we get a shower once a day, mostly short but sometimes not. On Monday afternoon there is an especially heavy shower and it’s hard to tell what is pool and what is poolside.  Young men rush around closing the sliding doors to the café but it’s actually nice to watch the torrent from the safety of inside the hotel.

I am reading a book about a guy (actually Australian) with aspergers syndrome. I ask Mrs K if any of my behaviourial traits might fit that condition. She says, "No, you're just annoying".  We have 5 days left.

On Monday evening we ventured out of the hotel to a restaurant along the beach which is recommended and we get a discount.  Finally, I find a great gin cocktail. It’s called a Gin Smash and comes with a BTGOF offer (buy two get one free). I take full advantage.

Tuesday, we are on the road to visit the huge Vishnu monument which is 18km from our hotel, but which we can see clearly from the rooftop bar.  It is 121m tall - the Statue of Liberty is 85m. The government started building it in 2013. The main piece is completed but the surrounding grounds are still a building site and several years from completion it seems.   There are about 20 guys working on a new road but 18 of those are watching 2 guys swing pick axes. This is a mammoth project which could outlive Gaudi's Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. 

Next stop is the Uluwatu temple where we watch a fire dance in a small amphitheatre.  It is unusual and spectacular. Asians around us insist on talking throughout the performance despite my disapproving glances.  It is absolutely packed with latecomers seated on the steps between tiers of seats.

I am required to wear a sarong.

We complete the day at Jimbaran with a seafood meal on the beach in front of breaking surf.  

Next morning breakfast is served on the rooftop. It is truly spectacular and probably the best breakfast ever.

As you can tell we are working hard to do very little and the days are flashing by. The local newspaper is full of stories about the Coronavirus. If you get it by drinking too much Corona, I am in trouble. That would be a disaster if we were stranded here, wouldn’t it?

Part 5

For the 2nd time this holiday Mrs K secures a 50% discount on the first asking price through indifference rather than negotiation.  The price of the beach dress has dropped quickly to £3.  We could probably get it cheaper but it seems petty to do so.  We are at Tanah Lot temple.  Tanah lot means “sea & land”.  The temple sits on a rock on the coast.  It is only 15km from the hotel but its more than an hour to get there. 

Bali traffic is insane.  And this is low season. This will be a clear constraint on future development of the island, I think. The roads are narrow single lane highways crowded on both sides by shops and commerce of various kinds. Motorbikes outnumber cars by maybe 10 to 1 and they are a law unto themselves. Bali has a population of just over 4 million and has the same number of road deaths per year as the UK. There are no trains and I don’t think they have buses either. Our driver continuously apologises for the congestion. Not his fault, but he tailgates cars and motorbikes in an effort to get past them and make up time.

This is a great spot to watch the sunset but the weather has been unpredictable for the last couple of days. On Thursday we had a proper thunderstorm nearly all afternoon with horizontal rain lashing down on the hotel, so we decided to get our visit in early Friday before another storm broke.

On Wednesday evening we treated ourselves to fine dining in the hotel's Plantation Grill which is ranked as one the top restaurants in Seminyak.  It's a smart place and we are serenaded by an opera singer. The food is special too. On Friday evening (our last) we visited the hotel next door’s restaurant which was also a culinary treat. Very quiet. We enter from the beach side and have to be let through a special gate by a very polite young lady on the reception – probably designed to keep out the riff-raff. When we sit down, I am invited to engage in a ritual handwashing procedure before we eat – I had showered before we came but I go along with it.

The waitress insists on calling me Prince Jeff – that’s what Mrs K calls me sometimes, when I’m not being annoying. The restaurant is very quiet and we get a lot of personal service. I go for the 4-course tasting menu which comes with a cocktail/wine with each course. Luckily it is a very short walk home.

It’s a sad day, being our last before a very long flight home in the evening. The hotel has an excellent ‘owners lounge’ which is like an airport lounge with complimentary drinks while you relax in air-conditioned comfort while waiting for your transfer. It’s as if they don’t want us to leave!

On our way to the airport there is another light shower, but the locals seem to handle it easily.

Almost every single Asian and a lot of Westerners are wearing face masks. Good, don’t want them infecting me.

22 hours door to door and we are home on Sunday morning.

What did I think of Bali? We probably didn’t see a huge amount of it but travelling around is a slow process. If we had been prepared to spend more time on the road there is a lot more to see. It was very hot and humid…and wet at times. But in the high season I can’t imagine at how busy it must get. Once you are here, the cost of your holiday (food/travel/excursions) is very low. The people were very friendly and the hotel staff were exceptional. One thing that struck me was the importance of their faith – they make daily offerings to their gods on a daily basis – even packs of crisps. These litter the streets everywhere you go.

Will we come back? Probably not, but I say that about everywhere we go – too many other places to visit.

Thanks for reading, until next time.

Jeff