Another morning, another sunrise. . . . Early to bed and rise is not my normal timing. This one was at 6:45, a little later than yesterday.
Another delicious breakfast of fresh fruit and black rice pudding; that is good stuff. Went across the road and did some snorkeling for 45 minutes or so. I love seeing the colorful fish normally one sees only in aquariums. Before I do more snorkeling, however, (and I would like to do so) I think I’ll try to get a lesson. It seems easy, and is – lie on the water and breathe through the apparatus, but I get water in the back of my throat, most annoying, I don’t seem to be able to clear it, and the salt water burns. Despite that problem, I did enjoy the experience. After returning the flippers I had rented, went back to the hotel.
Since I was already in my swimming suit and wet, I decided to use the pool to try to get a little exercise. Other than climbing the many steps that are everywhere in Bali (for example, 67 steps from my room to the dining room and another 21 from there to the road), I haven’t gotten much exercise. However, I have been eating, so. . . . The swimming was quite enjoyable; one is in the midst of foliage and can see the ocean.
Showered and got my stuff organized and packed for a 12:30 scheduled departure. Before leaving I went across to the beach hoping to get a picture of all the activity that had been going on while I was snorkeling. There were several scuba diving boats just off the shore and two land-based scuba training sessions. There were also three or four snorkelers in the water, and a few people on shore. Unfortunately, by the time I returned for the picture, all had left, and the beach looked as deserted as it had on Nyepi. Apparently most water activities are scheduled for the morning when sunshine is more likely. (It had clouded over by noon.)
I also found this slightly derelict temple just up the road. Great setting. And it may or may not be unused. It’s sometimes hard to tell, given the effects of the climate and the nature of Hindu worship.
Ferdi was on time so we headed off for some sightseeing on the return trip.
We took an alternate route, a small road along the coast with many curves and ups and downs and bumps. The road is the white line about the bottom quarter of the picture.
I really enjoyed seeing the non-tourist countryside – many small villages with “regular” people about. The women were mostly working – washing clothes, minding children, tending small stores, carrying bundles. A few men were working on and with fishing nets as we drove along; apparently that’s the primary employment in the area. However, most of the men were gathered around socializing; there would be gatherings of 5 to 20 motorcycles with the men sitting around. I understand that job availabilty is a real problem, but it seems they could have done something more productive. . . . .
At one place we stopped to take in the view of the countryside and the sea, I found this interesting juxtaposition of traditional and modern: the old gods and the new.
We forded several streams where the water (it being rainy season) went across the road on the way to the sea. These rainy season streams are, according to Monte, the source of much of the garbage found on south Bali beaches.
Serendipitously we ran across a traditional weaving cooperative. This was one of the groups that Threads of Life which I had visited in Ubud is trying to encourage so that the traditional methods and patterns of the various parts of Indonesia are maintained.
The manager was very gracious and showed us around, telling us about growing both the cotton and the dye plants then using the traditional methods to spin, dye, and weave. It was fascinating. According to him, it is difficult to hang on financially, but they’re doing their best.
The spinning wheel is the same style and material that has always been used in this region. So the product is authentic.
The material produced is absolutely gorgeous as this picture from the shop shows.
I coveted the blue piece next to the manager’s right ear. I don’t really have a need for it but would have purchased it anyway. However, I didn’t have the 1,000,000 rupiah it cost (about $100) in cash. A credit card would not work here!
At the textile location were several groups of women sitting companionably preparing temple offerings. There was a large group
and a smaller one. 
Both seemed to be doing the same thing. The result was a large quantity of offerings, pieces of dough colored orange with turmeric.
Nearby along the road we saw an after-Pengeruopuk ogoh-ogoh. At a minimum their heads are destroyed in the post-parade celebration as happened to this one.
The back road along the sea ended at Taman Ujung, the first water park built by the last Raja of Karngasem in 1919. It was used from 1921 as a retreat for the royal family and as a place to entertain visitors. It was shattered by an earthquake in 1976 and not fully restored and reopened until 2004. As one crossed over the bridge to enter Taman Ujung, below were rice fields and some other crop which apparently grows in water.
Bulai Kambang (floating pavilion) was used for meeting and serving refreshment to special guests.
Up the many stairs (I declined the opportunity) is located Balai Kapal, a main gate to the Taman Ujung from the sea side. From this location the Raja/King could look out to the sea and monitor what ships were going through the Lombok strait thus combining the pleasure of good scenery with the business of tracking what ships should be paying taxes.
The King even had a special building for meditation and yoga, the Balai Bundar.
The primary building of Taman Ujung is the Balai Gili where the King and his family would stay. There were living, bedroom and dining rooms (I don’t know where the cooking was done). Now it’s filled with old pictures of the royal family.
Here I am at the end of one of the bridges which leads to the Balai Gili.
While we were there, several large groups of motorcyclists roared into the parking area. Apparently Saturday is the day motorcyclists go out touring en masse. This group rode Harley Davidsons which means the members have money since that brand of motorcycle is very expensive in Bali. A few of the members carried flags denoting their club. They marched up the steps to have a group photo shot.
We continued on the main road back to the south beach area stopping at Kusumba because I wanted to see the sea salt production. I had seen at a distance the large drying beds along the Adriatic in Croatia and wanted to see the process in Bali. It was very different.
The water is placed into these containers
and underneath the salt is produced as the water evaporates.
There is some further processing inside before the final product, which Ferdi is examining, emerges.
Because of the rain, no salt was actually being produced at the moment, but the manager was happy to explain the process and show us around. He had been so gracious I wanted to purchase something but didn’t want/need a kilogram of sea salt. He put a small quantity into a plastic bag for which I paid 5,000 rupiah (50 cents). When one considers what sea salt sells for at the coop. . . !
This was our last stop as we headed back to Seninyak, running into a bit of traffic as we got closer so I didn’t reach the Kusuma Hotel until 5:15 p.m. That was just in time to have an early dinner with Helen and Monte and return to my room to pack for the plane to Korea. Completed that, went to bed at 9:30, to sleep about 10:30, and rose at midnight. A very short night. After showering and trying to wake up, I awaited Ferdi who arrived at 1:30 a.m. to take me to the airport for a 345 a.m. Korean Air flight to Seoul. No traffic so made it in plenty of time to sit and wait.
Goodbye, Bali.
In walking to the bookstore I saw this billboard which highlights ongoing issues between Korea and Japan. Dokdo is the Korean name for a hunk of rock in what Koreans call the East Sea. Japanese call the same body of water the Sea of Japan and have a Japanese name for the island. Uninhabited and not really significant in and of itself, the disputed ownership highlights Korea’s negative feelings, remembering years of Japanese colonialism, and Japan’s need to maintain its position. 
