The remaining delights of Bali

I was glad we stayed in Sanur Beach because it hadn’t reached the tourist fever pitch of Kuta. Our accommodation was right on the beach where we sat sipping coconut water and enjoying the last of our holiday. 

Bali’s monkey forests

The things we do for children. I’m sorry monkey lovers, these animals do nothing for me, but the thought of going to a monkey forest was a dream come true for my nine-year-old.

We walked through the forest when an Indonesian man ahead screamed before racing into the trees. We weren’t sure what was going on until he returned with a wad of money. Apparently, the monkey whipped the notes out of his shirt pocket. This was just the beginning of what the monkeys of this forest would do. 

Return to Bali

From Probolinggo, we took a scenic bus ride east, ferried across to Bali and down the coast to Denpasar before we arrived at Sanur Beach after dark—our last stop where we’d stay for ten days. I caught the dreaded Bali belly and while I ran between the bed and the bathroom, my daughter ordered prawn cocktails and swam in the hotel pool. 

First steps on to Java

Years after I left Bali, I often regretted not seeing more of Indonesia—my nearest neighbour at the time. It wasn’t until well over a decade later, I landed in Jakarta with my nine-year-old daughter. Her two older sisters had gone to Canada, so I grabbed this opportunity like an Indian passenger half out of a rail carriage door but clinging on. I intended to explore Java from one end to the other.

Bali before the tourist invasion

From the aeroplane window I spied no buildings, only coconut palms. I asked myself, what had I done? This was my first trip outside Australia, so like the vista below, I was green. 

Bali before the tourist invasion →

Could I handle today’s Dar es Salaam?

Karimjee Jivanjee Office Building: Photo courtesy: Planning Unit University College London — Wikimedia Commons

There’s a difference between the Dar I remember, and the one I find on line. Many of the old buildings are demolished, and I stare at a photo trying to place where the picture fits into the map of Dar I hold in my head.

A year before I came to the coastal town, I spent a week in Bali. Kuta Beach had a dirt track leading to the ocean. There were no hotels so I rented a room in a local family’s house. Only traditional Balinese food was available.

A small haven on the Con Dao Islands

Con Son on the main island, had instant appeal. Tree lined streets shaded French style bungalows where only the occasional sound of traffic was heard.