(3rd April 2025) The 2nd April in the USA.

The day Trump tariffed the world, destroyed the American economy, and disrupted global stability.

As on the previous day, we started breakfast at 8 am on our balcony overlooking the pool and gardens, but a cloudless sky and fierce sun soon drove us inside the villa to the coolness of its air conditioning. By 10 am, we were seated in the Reception area, awaiting the hotel shuttle bus driver to take us to Ubud and its markets. Thinking it would be a trip of just a few minutes, we were surprised to find that it took a good half an hour through very heavy traffic consisting of cars and what seemed like tens of thousands of motor scooters.

As we neared our destination, we encountered an increasing number of Europeans and people of Chinese origin until none but the street vendors and shop owners were Balinese; the rest of us were obviously foreign tourists. We disembarked outside the indoor market and instructed our driver that we would be back there at 1.30 pm. Bali has been a popular tourist spot for many decades. Recently, I read an article stating that the island had become the most visited in the Far East and that there were grave concerns that tourism was harming the culture and the life of its people. Witnessing the crowds shuffling along the narrow pavements and the sheer volume of traffic, I think this may be true. We chose to amble our way up the main street in the direction from which our shuttle had departed, perusing the stalls and any interesting buildings we passed, until the tourist outlets diminished, replaced by local shops. Crossing the road took careful judgement, a raised hand, a fixed glare, and crossed fingers, trusting that the scooter riders and drivers were born with a modicum of empathy.

We reversed our steps on the opposite side of the road and repeated the process of blending in with other tourists, searching for something to grab our interest and perhaps buy. Passing our disembarkation spot, we came across a temple complex and joined the many visitors exploring its ancient delights. I was surprised to hear so many American accents among the throng, these are the few who own passports and most likely understand that we all live on the same planet and very much rely on each other for the survival of our species.

With the temple fully photographed, we moved on to discover a side lane with engraved pavement slabs containing a variety of quirky sayings and names. On either side, stalls were crammed with clothes and knick-knacks designed to attract foreign currency. We strolled and paused our way up the lane for around half a mile until fatigue set in, at which point we turned around and began again. Spotting a painting in one of the outlets, we stopped to discuss whether to buy it. On enquiring, we discovered the price was 7.5 million IDR, but when I shook my head, the price dropped to 4.5 million IDR. The lady stuck to her guns when I said I could not afford it, but as I walked away, she asked me to wait a moment while she fetched the shop owner. When he asked what I was prepared to pay, I showed him I had just 1 million IDR on me, and that was it. I ventured that I would pay 1.5 million IDR using my card, and to my great surprise, he agreed.

Moving on, we shuffled our way along the main street to a museum where, after checking the time, we realised we wouldn’t have enough time to fully explore its exhibits and visit the indoor market and other side streets before the shuttle bus returned. Sue was looking for a wrap-around skirt and a hat, but despite trying several outlets, none were suitable. We stopped briefly to enjoy ice cream and feed three friendly street dogs with the cornet. Later, picking out the odour of durian fruit in the air, I followed its scent to find the stall selling them. I purchased one in its spiky outer covering and had it cut for later opening rather than peeled for immediate eating. Feeling the heat of midday, we found a bar and enjoyed some refreshments, watching the traffic and throngs of people rush by, until it was time to take our lives in our hands again and cross the road to wait for the bus. The driver arrived on time, and we were soon back in our villa, changing into swimming gear for a cooling swim in the infinity pool. Suitably refreshed, leaving Sue by the pool, I returned to our villa and ran a bath to continue an exotic bit of self-pampering. Much later, joining Sue on the balcony, I opened half of the durian fruit and ate it, wrapping the remainder tightly in its plastic bag and storing it in the refrigerator. Durian fruit is notoriously smelly to most people, but to me and those who enjoy its creamy, banana-like taste, it is wonderful.

We again had our evening meal at 8 pm, seated in the gazebo above the pool and garden. Both evening meals we had came with two types of chilli, red and black. The black variety sneaks up like a ninja in your mouth before exploding with searing heat, while the red one has no pretensions—it detonates immediately, obliterating any sensation in your mouth. Brilliant!

(4th April 2025)

As we had planned to be out for the day, we ordered breakfast for 7.15 am. However, due to a communication breakdown between reception and the kitchen, it failed to arrive on time. I eventually ate mine on the balcony, enjoying the many birds that visited the garden, but the sun proved too fierce for Sue, who took hers indoors and sat beneath the air-conditioning unit.

By 9 am, we were on our way to the Monkey Forest, thanks to an arrangement made by the hotel. Officially known as Mandala Suci Wenara Wana, it is a sanctuary for around 1,260 Balinese long-tailed macaques, located in nearby Padangtegal. It is probably Ubud’s most famous tourist attraction, receiving between 10,000 and 15,000 visitors each month, and today was no exception, as the forest was bustling.

Spanning 12.5 hectares, the forest is home to 186 species of plants and trees, as well as three temples. Our driver suggested that an hour would be enough to explore, and he was right. The forest was hot and humid, with many staircases that would challenge all but the young and fit. Several feeding stations were scattered throughout, stocked with maize cobs and yams, and these were teeming with monkeys of all ages. Most ignored the excited tourists taking photos just a few feet away.

Some visitors, however, were treated to closer encounters, as inquisitive primates leapt from trees onto shoulders, or, in my case, a youngster clambered up my dangling camera strap, onto my rucksack, and then my head. If it was searching for lice in my hair, its judgement left much to be desired!

We were particularly fascinated by the older monkeys, who collected bunches of leaves and then rolled stones over them to bruise them before eating, a behaviour that seemed surprisingly methodical. We completed a circuit of the forest trails and paid brief visits to two of the temples, capturing photos and video as we went.

Hot, sweaty and dehydrated, we WhatsApped our driver, who promptly arrived with the welcome relief of air-conditioning and drove us to our next destination: the Tegalalang Rice Terraces. These iconic green slopes, nestled in the jungle, are a long-time symbol of Bali’s natural beauty and cultural heritage. Listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the terraces are, sadly, also a victim of their own fame, now heavily commercialised and something of a tourist trap.

There is a small entrance fee to access the terraces, and an additional charge applies if you wish to take part in one of the three available activities: zip wire, swing, or cycling along a wire stretched across the valley. These were extremely popular, with queues forming beside each attraction. They certainly looked fun, made for great photos to impress friends back home, and no doubt gave a thrilling rush of adrenaline.

Sue and I took photos along the narrow, winding path that led down to the bottom of the valley, where a small stream gurgled gently into the distance. We had been in full sun for most of the descent, and Sue, feeling the effects of the heat and exertion, opted to return to the shade of the ticket office. I, meanwhile, crossed the bridge and climbed to the other side of the valley. Despite the incline, it was an easy ascent, helped by a cool breeze that revived a body which, only moments earlier, had felt like it was melting into a sweaty jelly.

The views were spectacular, but one must remember these are working rice terraces, and they require maintenance. The paths surrounding them were never intended for such high foot traffic and are beginning to show signs of erosion. Bamboo steps have been inserted where the land has started to slip away.

Watching the zip wire riders flash past overhead, and women in flowing dresses with impractically long trains swinging back and forth, was quite a spectacle, both novel and oddly mesmerising. Then, out of nowhere, someone would pedal a bicycle across the valley, suspended in the air, utterly surreal.

Crossing the little stream once more, I made the sweaty climb back up to the entrance to rejoin Sue. We contacted our driver via WhatsApp and set off on our next adventure: the Tegenungan Waterfall, just one of several impressive waterfalls near Ubud.

Located in the village of Tegenungan (also known as Blangsinga Waterfall), it is one of the most famous in the area and, at 15 metres high, the largest on the Petanu River. We paid a modest entrance fee at a kiosk situated at the top of a 90-step staircase, which descended into a cool, shaded ravine. From there, we followed wide concrete stepping stones set into the riverbed, leading us to the base of the cascade.

Yes, it was impressive. Tourists were taking full advantage of the refreshing waters, posing beside the roaring torrent, though I saw no one venture directly beneath it. A narrow bridge and footpath took us a little further downstream. By following a muddy track and climbing a short way, we reached a smaller waterfall, where a single couple were enjoying the solitude, squealing with delight as they splashed in the falling water.

We returned to Tegenungan Waterfall, removed our sandals, and cooled our feet in the stream until our driver arrived. Then, back in the car, we set off for our final adventure of the day.

Puri Saraswati Temple, also known as the Ubud Water Palace, is a Balinese Hindu temple renowned for its lotus pond. The pura is dedicated to the goddess Saraswati. We hadn’t expected it to differ much from the many Hindu temples we’ve visited over the years, but we were pleasantly surprised.

After donning the obligatory wrap-around sarong to maintain modesty, we set off to explore the complex. Our first delight was watching tourists and devotees purifying themselves in a large communal bath, packed in like sardines, attempting to fully immerse themselves without slipping under or losing their balance. It was fascinating to observe, but with our strong sense of health and safety (and memories of past brushes with skin infections), Sue and I decided not to join in.

We then discovered the celebrated lotus pond and its impressively greedy fish. Here, we treated ourselves to ice creams, choosing distinctly Balinese flavours: dragon fruit and durian. As we sat slurping, we enjoyed the tranquil setting and watched the fish dart about beneath the lotus blossoms.

After circumnavigating the sprawling site, we exited via a narrow lane lined with tourist trinket shops, resisting the cheerful calls of “Hello!” and “Only one dollar!” from eager stallholders.

The journey back to our hotel took us through typically heavy afternoon Bali traffic, which at least gave us time to appreciate the views along the roadside and admire the displays in the many roadside shops. Particularly striking were the intricate wood carvings, the kind of detailed craftsmanship at which the Balinese truly excel.

On our return, we selected our evening meal, booked seats on the shuttle bus to Ubud for the following morning, and arranged a session of foot reflexology for the afternoon. Then we retired to our villa to relax and recover.

Later, I contacted the driver who had collected us from the airport and arranged for him to take us to the Kayon Jungle Resort on Sunday, where we planned to meet up with Jamie and Ruth.