ที่ตีพิมพ์: 17.07.2017
If you live on an island for five months, you want to have seen as many corners and facets of it as possible. Funny, while I'm writing this, I realize that I have been living in Hamburg for 25 years, but I probably still don't know half of the city. Anyway, Charley and I want to explore the northern part of the island, now that we have seen so much in the south and west of Bali.
We wanted to spend one night at the top of Lovina and the second night a bit further down in Munduk, in the middle of the mountains. We didn't let ourselves be discouraged by the weather forecast, which predicted 80% chance of rain for the entire island in the coming days. Why not? I wonder now. If we had paid a little more attention to the weather app, we would have been spared a lot...
Google Maps shows me 82 kilometers when Charley and I calculate our route to Lovina. Okay, here we go! We wrote a list at home of what we want to see in the north in the next two days. We mainly want to go to Lovina because you can take a dolphin tour there at 6 a.m. The road to the north is beautiful. Just like everywhere in Bali, there are huge, bright green rice fields along this route. The sun is shining on us and I'm thinking, 'Ha, bad weather, my foot. Everything is going smoothly'. We've heard from friends that the further north you go, the cooler it gets and that we should bring warm clothes. So, about 1.5 hours before Lovina, we take a short break and put on our sweaters. A short time later, we drive through the first mountain in serpentine roads. Oh boy, it's pretty fresh here. And... gloomy.
A few minutes later, Charley, who is riding a few meters ahead of me, calls over her shoulder, 'Gina, I just got hit by raindrops'. Oh oh, now I did too. And then, within three minutes, a monsoon-like rain pours down on us, so that we can't even see our own hand in front of our eyes. There's no chance of continuing, so we stop under a small overhang at the next opportunity. Two locals also hurriedly park their scooters and join us. It doesn't take long before the road is filled with rain, and we're standing in a river with our sneakers. The tires of our scooters have already sunk halfway. Okay, this must be karma. Those who don't listen have to feel it. About 30 minutes later, we slowly start losing our optimism that it will stop soon, because it seems that Peter still has a lot of water up there. We're hungry. If we stay here any longer, the water will soon be up to our calves. We decide to pull our rain capes up to our chins and continue the rest of the way.
I don't think I need to describe how much it rained. I think it's enough to say: It didn't stop until the end of our stay in Lovina.
When we arrived soaking wet at our accommodation, we took a lukewarm shower and booked the dolphin tour for the next morning with the guesthouse owner, who was quite sure that the rain would only last today. Then we took advantage of the only rain-free minute to get to the nearest restaurant shivering with hunger at around 5:30 p.m. We fell asleep that evening completely depressed and even more depressed when the alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. the next morning. The rain hasn't even become slightly less. Still half asleep, I step outside to look for any staff members and clarify that a boat tour probably doesn't make sense now. And there, the boatman himself is standing with a rain cape on his scooter in the parking lot, ready to pick us up. Ha? Doesn't he notice? IT'S POURING!!! I try to explain to him politely that under these circumstances, we don't want to do the tour. He understands and slowly drives away. After Charley and I finally realize that we can cross off half of our to-do list, we pack our things and set off to Munduk with our rain capes. On the way, we stop at one of the temples on our list at least. After 10 seconds of squinting through the rain, we decide to leave it at that and continue driving.
At some point on the way, it finally stops raining. But because you can never be careful enough, I naturally slip out of a curve on the still wet road. Don't panic - fortunately, nothing serious happens except for a few scratches :). But funny enough, Charley was filming behind me with her GoPro at that moment, and this nice photo was taken as a souvenir:
Munduk is cold, but wonderful. Our path back to the little village takes us through the mountains. It's still very cloudy, but at least finally dry. The road leads us further and further up the mountains, and I wonder if we'll get the chance to give Peter a piece of our mind, or if we will ever arrive. But actually, after about an hour's drive, we find ourselves above the clouds. And as the good Reinhard Mey so beautifully sang: Above the clouds, freedom must be boundless. And yes, freedom feels pretty boundless here! All the bad mood is blown away, and suddenly I'm very grateful to be here.
When we arrive at our new accommodation, we're happy to have a restaurant terrace with a beautiful view of the mountains. But now we're a little annoyed that we booked the cheapest room for €6.50, where there's only cold water, a thin sheet as a blanket, and no lockable windows. It's really freezing up here. We spend the day exploring the area a bit and actually discover one of the most beautiful places in Bali in my opinion:
If we didn't live so far away, I would love to come here every day and look at this lake. When we still feel the cold in our bones in the evening, it's like a blessing when we notice 'HOT Stone Massage' on the menu of a spa while walking. Gratefully, half an hour later, we hurry after the two masseuses into their treatment room, only to be completely disappointed to find that this room is also freezing cold and has no lockable windows. When we ask if we can keep our cuddly socks on during the massage, the two of them just smile and say, 'oh no, you have Massas on feet as well'. They must have wondered how we could have such ice cubes as feet. Please don't think that I'm exaggerating. But the only long pants and sweatshirt we had with us, we had been wearing for 24 hours, and both were damp. And if you're used to 30 degrees for 3 months, you probably get cold quickly.
That evening, Charley and I had an interesting conversation. In the past few weeks, we've seen so many locals, especially in the non-touristy areas. And we've noticed time and time again how satisfied they all seem, even though they have so little. But they are carefree and happy with what is available to them. Charley then said to me that the Balinese people are actually to be envied for their simple yet carefree life. At first, I wanted to agree with her, but then I realized that actually, we are the ones who should be envied. We have it so good. We have all the possibilities in the world ahead of us, but we don't make the most of it. We are fortunate to have grown up in a country that is so developed that each of us can go to school or university and pursue the education we like. We all have the opportunity to earn a lot of money, and each of us could save enough to travel the world. The majority of Balinese people couldn't even afford a flight out of Indonesia. And what do we do? We complain and fret, we create hurdles in our lives because 'why take the easy way when you can take the hard one?' and we make problems out of every little thing.
When we start the journey back home the next day, despite all the rain, I feel quite enriched and I'm glad that we didn't pay much attention to the weather app at the beginning. On the way back, we even have a bit of sunshine and can tick off two more points from our list.