A very belated goodbye to Bali

I got a new job! A dream job, in fact, with Parks Canada. I’m working on the Clam Garden Restoration Project in Gulf Islands National Park Reserve. Since I started the position three months ago my life has been an absolute whirlwind (hence this incredibly overdue post), but I feel so incredibly grateful to be doing this work.

You might remember though, loyal readers, that this blog was about my year-long assignment in Indonesia. Yes, it was cut short. Yes, I was sad to leave my friends and colleagues and motorbike behind. But when the Canadian government finally offers you a job after years of application processes, it’s a fairly straightforward decision.

There was a whopping three-week period between the day I was offered the role and the day I started my job in Sidney, British Columbia. The sudden nature of my departure from Bali made the task of getting everything organized quite stressful. For example, the government of Canada required proof that I’m not a criminal in order for me to work for them (fair enough, GC) - but this included proof from my time in Indonesia. The Indonesian police, however, could not give me the specific documents required by GC for my security clearance because I didn’t have the right kind of visa. To make a long story short, this was a nightmare, and it made for a panicky, rushed, and stressful week.

Naturally, I hadn’t put much thought into how I wanted to spend the dwindling amount of free time I had left in Bali. Dive? Surf? Hike? Lounge on the beach? Get blissed out at the spa? Rip around on my motorbike? All of the above? None of the above?!

I couldn’t quite wrap my head around making any concrete plans, so I opted to just go with the flow and see where my heart led me. Maybe Bali did each me something…

In the end, I managed to squeeze in all sorts of adventures during my final weekend. On Friday I went to yoga, got a Balinese head massage, lounged at Serangan beach, drove up to Ubud, went on a lovely ridge walk, and ate at one of my favourite restaurants in Bali. I spent the night with my friend from Vancouver, Charlotte, who had been working remotely in Ubud for a couple of months. I wish I’d had more time to spend with her (her house was incredibly beautiful!), but there was still so much to do and see, and the clock was ticking.

Our return journey from the ridge walk was briefly delayed by a cultural ceremony. 

I got up in the dark on Saturday morning and drove an hour and a half north to the heart of Bali to see a famous floating temple, Ulun Danu Beratan. It was a chilly drive but I made it in time for sunrise to snap a few shots. The temple grounds were empty but for me and a bunch of other keen photographers (whose tripods and massive cameras and shouts of “The sky is beautiful right now! Shoot!!! Shoot!!” were slightly overwhelming).

According to Wikipedia: Built in 1633, this temple is used for offerings ceremony to the Balinese water, lake and river goddess Dewi Danu, due to the importance of Lake Bratan as a main source of irrigation in central Bali. The 11-storey pelinggih meru in the complex is dedicated to Shiva and his consort Parvathi. Buddha's statue is also enshrined in this temple.

Also according to Wikipedia: Lake Bratan is known as the Lake of Holy Mountain due to the fertility of this area. Located 1200 m above sea level, it has a cold tropical climate.

As the sun rose higher and the chilly morning mist began to lift, I continued north, heading up higher into the mountains and along a ridge top road that looked down on three lakes on one side, and all the way to the ocean on the other.

By mid-morning I’d explored most of the area and was left contemplating my options. Head north to the coast, signing up for at least four hours of motorbiking? Head back south, taking a different route that is much longer, curvier, and less maintained? Or head back the way I came and visit the strawberry fields?

My stomach ended up making the decision and I zipped back down to the town near the floating temple and enjoyed a strawberry pancake and a brief chat home to my family celebrating Easter.

I decided to take a slightly different route back south and I was immediately glad I did. I LOVE riding my motorbike through new places. The roads get smaller, the villages are vibrant, the surrounding fields seem extra green and vibrant. You never know what you might see! Everything feels more peaceful, more authentic, less invaded by western culture and tourists. Locals stop to ask who you are and where you’re going (and I was able to reply – haltingly – in Bahasa).

During my blissful ride, it began to pour rain and I sought shelter in a small tin-roofed hut on the side of the road. I’ve driven in the rain quite a bit but wasn’t comfortable on these steep twisting roads and figured it’d be better to wait it out for a while.

After the rain died down, I continued driving up into the beautiful Jatiluwih Rice Terraces, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Just as I was entering the fields it started to pour again. I hid in a small farmer’s hut and was soon joined by a Balinese man who spoke no English. I tried to get by on my meagre Bahasa but we didn’t get too far in the conversation. He saw me taking pictures and gestured towards another ridge, telling me it was very beautiful. When the rain stopped, he led the way to this different area, which was indeed quite stunning. I was so grateful that he took the time to show me!

I said goodbye to my friend and looped back to where we’d been before, parked my motorbike and walked for over an hour through the rice fields. It was absolutely magical and I had a dorky smile plastered over my face the entire time. Surrounded by sparkling, bright green terraces, breathing the fresh mountain air, knowing I only had a few days left in Bali - I soaked it all in and just blissed out.

Eventually I tore myself away from the vivid green wonderland and hit the road again; I began heading southwest towards Canggu, a hipster-surf area north of Seminyak (which is where I was when I first arrived in Bali, if you recall!). I was going to meet up with a few friends there and go surfing. I arrived in Canggu around 5pm and was horrified; I’d only been there for dinner once so I’d never seen it in daylight and I was shocked by how overrun with foreigners it is. It felt like a completely different world from the areas I’d been in previously that day.

I walked down to the beach to check out the waves and it was packed [bold] with people. The waves looked decent but I wasn’t sure if they were worth jostling with hundreds other keeners. I decided to wait until early morning to try them out.

Despite an early alarm, I still paddled out to join hundreds of other people in the surf. It was so busy that it just felt bizarre and uncomfortable. I tried to paddle for a few waves but couldn’t quite muster a solid ride (it has been about five years since I’ve surfed regularly, after all…). About twenty minutes later another surfer’s board crashed into mine and cracked it, so I was pretty much done with surfing and headed in to pay for the damaged rental board.

I met up with some friends for a yummy breakfast and spent the rest of the morning poking my head into the fancy hipster shops and perusing the items in the market. I still didn’t feel enamoured by Canggu and ended up leaving before noon; I wanted to be back in my quiet, somewhat-still-Indonesian feeling Sanur!

I enjoyed a mellow afternoon (another spa, another sunset), then had dinner with my coworker Indah, who is a fantastic cook and continues to broaden my Indonesian culinary repertoire.

The next three days flew by as I wrapped up things at work, said goodbye to my coworkers, celebrated achieving my Divemaster with my BSB family, and did my final yoga class with my beloved instructor Ade.

My incredibly wonderful MDPI coworkers!

Final evening with my yoga family.

On my final evening in Bali, my good friends from work came over and I gave away everything I couldn’t fit in my overstuffed bags. All too soon, my bags were packed and I was in a cab to the airport. As we zipped past the familiar roads of Bali that had been my home for the past seven months, I reflected on the ups and downs of my time spent in Indonesia. I’d met so many wonderful people and learned so many new things about fisheries, diving, yoga, food, and life in general… but of course Indonesia had been challenging whenever I’d travelled, tried to communicate, or even just maintain a healthy digestive system. I knew I’d miss all of my friends, my colleagues, my little bungalow, my motorbike, the manta rays, the sunsets, the rolling rice fields of northern Bali… it was bittersweet to be leaving so suddenly, with so much still to explore.

My overloaded baggage and adorable friends. 

My cab driver prevented me from getting too caught up in my head by asking me all sorts of questions as we drove along... how long had I been here, would I come back, how old was I, did my family come with me?

“Maybe your mudder is heppy you go home,” he said.

“Definitely,” I replied. “She’s definitely happy I’m coming home.”