KUTA BALI
15th - 20th August 2015
We arrived in Bali Depansar via Jakarta round 11pm and booked a hotel using the airport's wifi. Unfortunately when we rocked up the hotel had not updated their online bookings and were full. The lad at reception called around and eventually found us a nice place for the same price however it was a little further away from the beach down a labyrinth of small side streets.
Indonesia is really famous in the surf world. It has some of the worlds best waves due to its location with many world class waves breaking over a variety of rock and coral reefs. Having not surfed much reef before or waves of the standard Indonesia is famous for I was a tad nervous about where to surf. Luckily the swell forecast was by Indo standards tiny but by William standards just right. On the first day our goal was to track down a board and a friendly local to give us the low down on the many reef breaks in the area. We walked down to Kuta beach too see a mass of colourful foam boards and surf schools stretching out the full length of the beach. Being one of the only surf spots with a sandy bottom it's a good place to learn the ropes but a nightmare to catch a proper ride. We had brekkie in a little beach side cafe then wondered around various surf shops keeping an eye out for a descent board.
We eventually found a tiny surf shop down a little side street where a friendly chap called Oki gave us a bit of info about the area and let me rent a board. However he kept saying I should surf the beach as I'm on holiday and don't want to hurt myself. We started to get the impression he was trying to scare me into not paddling out into the reefs to keep the crowds down. We walked back to the beach with him and he introduced us to his boss, a Dutch man called Jason. He spends a lot of time ping ponging between Bali and the Netherlands and we got the impression the surf shop was more of a hobby than a business. He was probably one of the best guys you could have met in my situation. Other than being super relaxed about renting the board for an unknown amount of time with no deposit or ID, he also gave me the lowdown on all the spots in the area, the price and location to catch boats out to the reefs, and he even put us I touch with a friend in Gilli Air (an island we plan to visit with Helen's sis) who has a load of bungalows on the beach. To shake off the flight and get my confidence back I paddled out on Kuta beach into the sea of foam boards. The break wasn't really working so after about an hour I gave up and sat drinking Bintangs with Jason and some of his friends waiting for Helen to return from her wander. Jason always sits at the same beach bar and the barman has a pet monkey.
That night we ate at an restaurant called Fat Chow just down from the surf shop in a little back road. It was a pretty slick place, kind of industrial looking in a trendy sort of way. We managed to get the table in the far corner and partook in a spot of people watching and Bintang drinking. We ordered beef udon, Thai green curry, Mekong rolls and these BBQ mini pork burger things, it was all delicious and explained the constant queue outside. Fat and happy we retired to bed.
The following day I decided to get up at first light and take a boat out to Airport Reef just to the south of Kuta. I paid about two quid to a man on the beach who pointed to a boat in the bay that would drive me over. I could see the waves crashing in the distance but couldn't really work out their size or how deep the water was. As we drew closer I could see about 10 - 15 folk in the water. Apparently that is fairly quiet for this reef. I ungracefully jumped out the boat, told the driver to pick me up in two hours and paddled over to the peak. The waves were breaking a little overhead on to a mixture of rock and coral, it was pretty shallow and I quickly leaned to fall flat and kick out of the waves early before running into the dry reef poking it's nose up in the shallows. The atmosphere in the water was really friendly. I was expecting moody locals getting annoyed with the foreign surfers and everyone to be paddling around each other jostling for waves, but this was not the case, with everyone waiting their turn and chatting between sets. After two hours and a fair few waves my boat arrived to take me back to the beach. For a first proper surf in Indo I'd say it was a success. My good post surf mood soon changed however when I got completely lost in the labyrinth trying to find my way back to the hotel.
Helen was still dozing when I got back. I was pretty annoyed at how far we were from the beach, and how lost I managed to get so our next task was to find a hotel closer to the centre of town and beach. We had a quick look over booking.com and found a nice looking resort with a pool surrounded by tropical gardens. It was only five mins from the beach and the brekkie was free. We packed up, hopped into a cab and checked in round 12. Unfortunately the room wasn't ready but the staff tipped us off about a great local restaurant just round the corner where we could kill some time over lunch. It was a kind of buffet style place with twenty to thirty dishes of different fish, meat, rice, and veg dishes that you could pick and choose from. It was heaving with locals too which is always a good sign. I'm not entirely sure what we ate but our little food mountains were well and truly conquered. We got talking to the manager at a hotel round the corner who we shared a table with, he told us a lot about Indonesian culture as well as giving me more tips about where and when to surf. He told us how the Balinese people traditionally name their children, with only 4 names. First born children are named Wayan, which explained why we'd already met quite a few Wayan's. If a family has more than 4 children, they just go back to the beginning again. He also shared his crisps with us.
Our room still wasn't ready when we returned so we dozed by pool and got talking to Danny and Maxine, a brother and sister from south of Perth but originally from England. In the town where they live Maxine runs a famous burger restaurant and Danny works on the many vineyards in the area which apparently go into the hundreds. They said if we want to extend our visas we can come and stay with them and work the vineyards to tick off our agricultural obligation. The thought is actually quite appealing. Eventually our room was ready except it wasn't what we had booked, they had tried to shove us in to a budget room at the back of the hotel. Helen pulled them up on what they had written on booking.com and eventually after being shown lots of rooms that weren't what we booked, we ended up in a stale mate. The manager made her final move by saying take one of the rooms we have shown you or get a refund as they are fully booked. We called her bluff asked for the refund, and suddenly we were shown into one of the nicest rooms of our trip so far with a balcony looking over the gardens and pool. Jackpot! After our little gamble we relaxed back by the pool and overheard that a Save The Turtles charity on Kuta beach was releasing a load of baby turtles that had hatched the previous night.
The beach was a hive of activity with a party atmosphere which we later learned was due to it being Independence Day, when Indonesia was granted independence from the Netherlands.
There was a massive line of people about fifty meters in length, all holding little pots with the tiniest turtles I have ever seen. After a big countdown and making sure everyone on the beach nearby had agreed not to move, the race to the sea began. Roughly four hundred of the little fellows started to awkwardly shuffle across the sand. Some were quicker than others, but the charity team kept picking up the slowcoaches and plonking them closer to the ocean. It wasn't long before they were at the waters edge when the white wash would swallow them up sending them tumbling back up the beach. The lucky ones would be dragged back by the retreating water and take flight. They may have looked awkward on land, however as they swam past our ankles in the water they were agile and graceful using their flippers like wings to fly away into the deep blue. The sad fact we later learned was that only one of the four hundred released was likely to make it to adulthood.
Further up the beach was another crowd of people surrounding a big pole with lots of different items at the top varying from caps and T-shirts to a plastic rake or a surfboard. The pole was about 20 foot high and was heavily greased. We sat and had a beer as a team of locals climbed on each others shoulders to try and reach the top, they still struggled against the grease but one athletic chap did manage to reach the top throwing down various prizes to his mates on the ground. This is apparently a traditional Independence Day activity along with many other games and performances around the town, often linked with the local schools.
Helen decided she wanted to give diving a crack and had found a beginners one day course where you can dive to a WW2 shipwreck just off bali's east coast. (See the next post) we booked a slot for the following day which turned our evening into a long hunt for an underwater disposable camera. To celebrate the success of our camera adventure we rewarded ourselves with cheap street food and a few rounds of gin rummy.
We both awoke at dawn, Helen to catch her ride to the diving school, and me to catch a ride over to Airport Reef again. The reef is not far from the end of the runway that juts out into the ocean. Whilst you're sitting in the line up, planes take off and land pretty much over your head. The surf was a bit bigger this morning and I recognised a few familiar faces from the day before. I managed to catch a fair few waves over the session however I also managed to catch my foot on the reef resulting in a small but annoyingly painful cut. The boats timing to pick me up was perfect meaning I was still in time for the free hotel breakfast. As Helen wouldn't be back till the evening I was free to explore the Bukit Peninsular where many of Bali's famous breaks are.
After milling about by the pool for a while I went in search of reef boots and a motorbike complete with surf rack. I managed to get some boots but the bike was more tricky. In the end Danny who we met by the pool the previous day said he'd call his mate and could get hold of one for me for tomorrow morning. With no other choice I hailed a taxi to make my way over to some of the breaks on the peninsular. These are the spots that Bali is most famous for and again I was unsure what to expect. It took ages in the traffic which I hadn't expected, changing my plan of surfing a few spots to one. I ended up at a break called Dreamland. Some of the guys from London Surf Club, Joe from Sri Lanka and a few other Facebook friends from our travels had been in touch to give me some of their thoughts and had recommended this place as a not too mental break. There was a small wave breaking over the reef to the right of the beach and later during the session the left hand side of the beach came to life. It would have been good if the waves were a tad bigger and more consistent but at least there was no chance of a "coral tattoo" today. I stayed in the surf for four hours and only got out after one of the biggest reddest sunsets I have ever seen.
Unfortunately my good post surf mood was again shattered when I was informed in the car park that taxis don't pick up from here and my only chance of getting back to Kuta was a private car which was double the price. After a hopeless negotiation and learning that all the local businesses were in on the private car "arrangement" or as I like to call it "scam" I had no choice but to pay up. I spent the majority of the journey grumbling to the driver about how too much of this kind of thing will ruin his industry, by the end I think he felt quite guilty and apologised, but not guilty enough to knock the price down. Dickhead! Traveling by car was not going to work round these parts, fingers crossed Danny's mate managed to get hold of a bike for me.
Helen was back from her diving trip when I arrived back, we had a couple of beers on the balcony and exchanged the details of our days, it sounded like the diving was amazing but quite challenging. We then went out for steak and chips. It was wonderful and put everything right.
Similar to the last two days I hit Airport Reef at first light. It was the biggest it had been so far but still wasn't particularly crowded and managed to maintain its friendly chilled atmosphere. Again I made it back in one piece in time for breakfast, however at some point I had managed to ding the board, nothing a piece of duct tape wouldn't fix.
Danny had been successful with the bike and around midday, me and H rolled out of town up the coast to a place called Canggu which a number of people had recommended we visit for surfing and lifestyle. The highway was horrible, a mass of weaving, fuming trucks, bikes, coaches all swerving around all over the place to avoid wild dogs, road works and various other obstacles, like a budget, less fantastical Mario Cart Race. Eventually the chaos gave way to a lush green country lane surrounded by rice paddies.
We arrived in Cangguu for a late lunch. Tommy's sister's boyfriend (a surfing and motorcycle enthusiast) had tipped us off about the Deus Temple of Enthusiasm. Deus is a surfing and motorcycle brand set up by a bunch of Ozzie's. The Temple of Enthusiasm is their multi purpose space here in Bali. It was a great place rising up out of the lush rice fields that surround the edge of Cangguu village. It's part custom motorbike or surfboard workshop, gig venue, restaurant, bar, tattoo parlour, barber, and shop. It's the kind of place where you want to buy everything and the staff and clientele were painfully trendy. Apparently on Tuesday nights you can get tapas and a free tattoo (don't worry mum we arrived on a Wednesday). It made for great people watching as we chomped down on two massive burgers for lunch.
After food we carried on down the road to the beach which revealed a lovely right hand wave breaking across the reef to the far right of the bay. Helen had just started a new book and was cool with me having a quick hour in the drink. I had a wicked session with loads of fast long rides racing the frothy white horses above who kept trying to jump on me. I came in just as the sky was turning pink. We shared a couple of Bintangs on the beach and watched the sun potter off for the night.
Above the beach was a bar called Old Man's named after a chunky long boarding wave that breaks just round the corner. It was a wicked place with good food, booze and music with a completely different atmosphere and clientele compared to the touristy holiday resorts that surround Kuta beach. We stayed for a beer and instantly decided to check out of our hotel the following morning and spend a few nights up here.
We weaved and swerved our way back to Kuta arriving for dinner at a sushi restaurant Helen had clocked earlier. The chefs were on show at the front of the restaurant literally performing as they cooked. Spatulas, pepper pots and various other bits were juggled, eggs were caught in hats and veg was chopped and flicked across the hot plate like machine gun fire. At one point they were literately flicking food from the grill into customers mouths. We ordered a selection of fresh sushi. It was a refreshing change in taste and was up there with one of the best meals of the trip.
On our last day in Kuta we rose early to get the most use out of the bike. On the road by eight we headed south to a temple at the most southern tip of the island called Uluwatu. It took a while to get to, but was a much nicer road than the fast paced dusty highway up to Canggu. The main road gave way to pretty little lanes that weaved through small rural villages and little surf towns at one point climbing pretty high giving way to a great view over Kuta. We donned two bright purple sarongs at the entrance as it was a very religious place. The temple itself was perched on the edge of the cliffs rising up three tiers into a vivid blue sky. You could walk the costal path north and south to see it from a few angles. It would have been great to have a peak inside however only true Hindus were permitted.
From the cliff tops we could see one of Bali's biggest and heaviest breaks Uluwatu pealing round the cliffs and out of sight. As we were so close we decided to stop by Uluwatu beach to see some shit hot surfing and grab a bite to eat. There was a cool little surf community cobbled together along the cliffs that line the beach. Shops, cafes, surf photography studios, and guesthouses all seemed to be built in and around each other set back on the cliffs at various levels overlooking the break. It was a cracking spot.
The swell was only small, however the waves were breaking well overhead at the southern tip, this dropped to around head high in the middle section, I think that part of the wave is called "RaceTracks". The longer I looked at it the more I felt like I could give it a go and eventually plucked up the courage to paddle out. You walked through a small cave then timed your entry when the water washed in over the rock, then it would pull you out. A five - ten min paddle then followed to get out of the rip and over to the peak. It was super crowded, probably because the swell was much more manageable than usual. I managed to pick off a few nice long lefts. Nothing super amazing but enough to leave me with a big grin at the end of the session, happy I had caught a few waves somewhere like this. The atmosphere in the water though was a completely different story. People jostling for waves, no one talking, everyone taking themselves too seriously and getting angry with each other. I'm glad I paddled out but probably won't visit spots like that again. For me it's not about trying to be the best and trying to psych out other surfers, it's about having a bit of fun and a laugh with the people in the water around you.
Once out the water and climbing the cliff a number of surf photographers pounced on me trying to sell me photos of the session. None of the pictures were amazing but I wanted a little souvenir of Uluwatu and bought a few shots. I found Helen on a sun bed perched atop of a platform carved into the top of a rocky outcrop high up above the break. It looked like something out of a music video. We went for a quick swim in the afternoon sun before setting off.
We had read there was a big cultural park on the way back into Kuta that was worth a look, so we stopped by to check out the massive statues and traditional performances that it's famous for. The place was massive however it still seemed to be being built. We didn't stay too long as we had things to do so we made it a short visit and then sped back to Kuta, being reversed into on route by some dozey prick at a junction. Fortunately no harm done.
We got back in the early evening, returned the board back to Jason, left the keys for the bike at reception and had one last meal at Fat Chow before booking a taxi to Cangguu. We hadn't booked anything there, but we had see a number of broken surfboards signs with "rooms" scrawled on the day before, so we thought we would just wing it.