It was an even earlier wake-up than planned. At 6:00, I heard a phone conversation going on in the room next door where a young American or Canadian had checked in last night. She was laughing and talking *super* loud.
I put in earplugs and kind of slept some more until 7:00, when I went out to the veranda for breakfast and discovered that Jeff and Janet had also been awoken two rooms down from the newcomer, who had come out for breakfast herself.
I introduced myself first and then gently let her know (“these walls must be really thin, because…”) that she’d woken all of us up. I would be checking out today but I wanted her to know for her future and current neighbors to avoid a repeat performance. Zlata (“wow, we both have Z names.. funny”) from San Diego was only staying the one night. I assumed she was up so early for being jetlagged but she has been in Bali for a while and had a 5:30 alarm (?). She apologized, in a way that indicated she was entirely comfortable with her actions. It’s not that her apology wasn’t genuine, just that she wasn’t terribly disturbed about having woken three people up at 6:00.
I tread very carefully in the realm of shame, so I’ve been sitting with the fact that Zlata didn’t feel quite bad enough for me. I didn’t want her to feel like a bad person; I did want her to feel guilty for her impact on us to the extent that guilt offers us the opportunity to do better in the future. I got the feeling that she will be no more mindful of her 5:30am loudness going forward.
I’m considering writing a separate post about what I think of as the space I take up. The balance between doing what I either need or just want and being conscious of the impact that that has on others. It’s come up a lot for me on this trip in situations like this one.
Unfortunately as I packed up all my stuff, my back was feeling achy and the nerve pain returned. Unknown whether I should have done my stretches last night even though I’d done yoga, or if I didn’t modify quite enough in yoga, or both, or something else. The three of us were picked up out front at 7:45, and riding in the van was most unpleasant, even with my lumbar roll.
Our first stop was the Tegenungan Waterfall. Admission was all of IDR 15,000, barely more than $1 USD. There are several viewpoints along the 100 wide steps down to the water. Once there, the feature I enjoyed the most came into view: dozens of rock stacks, or what I have learned all called cairns. I found them peaceful and aesthetically pleasing, both individually and in the clusters that dotted the landscape.
We crossed over the water from the bank where the steps end, using the makeshift bridges in place. The first was a piece of a ship — I called it the pirate board — which was narrow but thankfully not slippery. It wasn’t a long way down but it was certainly wet and would probably hurt to fall. The second was four thick bamboo stalks strung together, which was manageable as long as you didn’t step in the space between them in the wrong way!
Closer to the falls and the rock stacks, we took in the view for a bit. For an additional fee, we could have sat in a tall wooden swing for photo ops or walked up steps to the top of the waterfall, but we opted to do neither.
We made our way in reverse and landed at the top of the 100 steps about an hour after we arrived. We had a seat in a warung overlooking the falls and had refreshments, an avocado “juice” for me. I’d seen this on a few menus and was curious what it would be since avocados aren’t particularly juicy. I decided to find out and, as I suspected, it was similar to the avocado shakes I have at Pho Van, a Vietnamese restaurant in Portland. I think this one was probably blended with milk (and not ice cream), making it thick and smooth and tasty without being sweet.
On the way to the next stop, we passed a gathering of locals and then drove along a street lined with ceremonial offerings. We asked our driver what was happening, and it was a ceremony of some kind. I wanted to ask what the occasion was but didn’t for the language barrier and fear of prying. We stopped for a couple photos, though:
Around 10:15, we arrived at Goa Gajah, or Elephant Cave. Contrary to the name, it is not a sanctuary full of elephants. Rather, it’s an archaeological site of an 11th-century spiritual sanctuary with both Hindu and Buddhist iconography.
We walked down steps into the site and came upon the sunken pool with Hindu statue fountains that was unearthed in 1954, decades after the elephant cave itself was found in 1923. We marveled at the elaborate carvings of faces and animals on the front of the cave and took a peek inside the hellmouth. It was dark and damp and narrow and not too deep. Inside were three carved-out indentations with stone idols and offerings.
From here, we crossed over into the Buddhist garden and temple half of the site and found a small waterfall, a large lily pond, large and brightly colored flowers, and an enormous tree whose roots you could climb among for a photo op.
Having had our fill of the beautiful site, we arrived back at Rumah Jelita around noon. On the way, I thought about the rest of my day. I had stored my bags in Jeff and Janet’s room temporarily. They generously offered me the use of their room, but I had a lot of needs.
When I booked my stay here, I didn’t include tonight since our host, Ketut, was willing to store my bags. I figured I would check out at 11:00 and wander Ubud one last day before leaving for the airport around 21:00. What I hadn’t considered is how sweaty and sticky I would be at the end of the day. I did not want to just change layers to get on the plane without washing off, and then I started thinking about what else I needed. A bed to do stretches on and wifi to refresh my memory on what I would do upon landing in Japan and outlets to charge up all my devices!
I asked Ketut’s sister/assistant Wayan if either the room I’d checked out of (in the center of the three) or the room at the left end of the veranda (where Zlata was) had people checking in today. After some confusing communication that sounded like both rooms would be occupied, I figured out that neither had anyone coming – yay! I think Wayan was offering to let me use a room for free, but I went ahead and booked. I chose the room on the end because it cost $10 USD less (no A/C, which was fine). Such a relief! A slight bummer that I’d packed everything up but for all my planning I could not have anticipated every need and I was just grateful to have the space.
Jeff and Janet were headed to lunch and invited me along (they enjoy my company! 🙂 ). As we walked out the long path from our listing to the street, we passed a construction site next door to Rumah Jelita where the workers had just disturbed an ant nest. All three of us got bit, and those suckers STING!
Again, my neighbors chose a place I hadn’t noticed — a few restaurants lining Jl. Monkey Forest near our listing overlook a rice field in the back, which you can’t see from the street.
After lunch, I needed a pedicure. Not like, “I’m in Bali and pedicures are so cheap and spas are everywhere, so I should get one.” More like, “How did my toenails get so jacked up on this trip?! I better get them fixed in Bali where it is so cheap and NOT in Japan.” The big toe on my right foot had a corner chunk cut out of the nail, and the next toenail over had torn from the side. Eek.
I had a look at a few spas and chose one set back from the street. I took off my shoes outside, sat down inside, and immediately wanted to get back up and out. The inside had an overpoweringly musty and mildewy smell. The nail tech was asking me to choose a color, and I simply said that I’d changed my mind and walked out. Might have been rude or awkward, but I’m working on taking care of my needs while also considering the impact on others 😉 Suffering through unpleasant and possibly unhealthy air was not worth avoiding the nail tech’s confusion or irritation, and I don’t know that she felt either of those things.
I landed on a nicer spa on the main road. The cushy chair would probably be very comfortable for most, but it was an endurance test for my back and the nerve pain 
Still, my toenails got fixed and painted prettily for about $9 USD, including tip.
When I got back to Rumah Jelita, Jeff and Janet were heading out to their own spa experience, Jeff for a massage and Janet for a facial. On their way, they stopped by my room with their email addresses so we can keep in touch ❤ I hope to see them again in Cambridge one day!
I set about my laptop tasks: delete photos; submit the IT-approved reimbursement request for the charger cable replacement; save the Tokyo addresses for the Airbnb office and my listing in Google Maps on my phone (this would prove to be very smart because the addresses are not memorizable like 123 Main Street); write reviews of my listing in Amed and the bike ride experience; upload/sync of new photos to iCloud; Facebook photo post. None of this was blog writing, which continues to make me anxious.
All the while, I was taking stretch breaks like mad.
On my way out to dinner, I chatted with Jeff and Janet one more time. It was getting on in the evening and not being sure whether I would see them again before I left, we hugged our goodbyes. So glad to have met them.
I walked nearby to another one of the restaurants overlooking the rice field. Back home, I packed up again, showered (YASSSSS), and texted Ketut. He was already out front with his van in the limited parking on Jl. Monkey Forest.
As I rode with him out of Ubud, I noticed the nerve pain had quite diminished. Thank you, press-ups. I think the pain was made worse today by the thought of my impending 7-hour flight, and I was relieved to feel improvement.
It was a little over an hour to DPS, and Ketut dropped me off at 22:20. It was early enough that my 00:45 flight didn’t appear on the check-in board yet so I didn’t know where to go (unlike American airports with counters for each airline, DPS has lettered/numbered banks of agent terminals, which I assume can be swapped out as needed.. I observed this at BCN last year too). I stood and watched the board for 20 minutes (I would be sitting a long time soon enough).
I checked in when I knew where to do so, and as with the two previous check-ins from Portland to Auckland and from Wellington to Bali, the agent needed my flight number out of the country I was going to. When you book one-way tickets, they want to know you’re not staying!
I made my way through customs and before finding food I wanted to make sure I knew where to find my gate. As I walked up the corridor, I started to smell cigarette smoke. I looked around to see if someone had lit up inside an airport terminal, and as I kept walking the smell got stronger. Ah… I see. Here is a large glass-walled smoking area. Funny how cigarette smoke doesn’t know to stay contained inside it. I had just washed my hair, and it picked up the wafting smell, which kind of pissed me off.
Having found my gate, I walked back to find snacks and ended up in the duty-free shop. Between there being only one line that was held up by something or another and the $16.50 USD I spent on Pringles, granola bites, and a tiny half-sandwich, I was quite irritated with this airport.
My mood improved when I boarded my flight. In the mid-section between first class and coach, like my first flight out of Portland on Hawaiian Air, I had the entire 12 seats in the center to myself! Actually, a few filled in before we departed but there was no one behind or in front of me or in my row, allowing me to lay down.
Goodnight and goodbye, Bali.
Zoe Means Life 