Jimbaran Bay

Our Lonely Planet Bali guide read,

Just outside Kuta, Jimbaran Bay is a superb crescent of white sand and blue sea, fronted by a long string of seafood warung (restaurants), and ending at the souther end in a bushy headland...It's mostly a somnolent kind of place except in the evenings as the sun goes down, when the tourists arive and enjoy the spectacle while feasting on freshly caught grilled fish at any number of simple beachside joints. Once it's dark, you can see twinkling lights far out to sea: fishing boats bringing aboard the next night's meals.

Sound like a great place? It is. Our night at Jimbaran Bay was one of the most memorable on our trip. We feasted on fresh, sweet grilled lobster and fish at the Teba Cafe. Our table sat right on the sand and the kids built a sandcastle while the adults sipped fruity cocktails. Here's a slide show:

Pura Luhur Ulu Watu

On Bali's southernmost point, Pura Luhur Ulu Watu sits atop sheer cliffs that drop straight down to the pounding surf. The 11th-century Balinese sea temple is lovely with intricate carvings of mythological characters and a family of monkeys who crawl about it. But the commanding ocean views are the real draw. As we walked the path that skirts the edge of the cliffs, I was holding onto the backs of my kids' shirts.

"Mommy, it's a long ways down there. I don't think we should jump into the water."

Slide show: Traditional Balinese Healing Center

Have you read Eat, Pray, Love? Remember Wayan, the healer in Ubud? The author raises money to buy Wayan a house? We visited Wayan's Traditional Balinese Healing Center. We tried the "Vitamin Lunch," and Wayan treated my daughter's rash with some herbs. Here's a slide show.

Traditional Balinese Healing Center: A visit with Wayan of 'Eat, Pray, Love'

If you read the hugely popular book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, then you know about Wayan (pictured above). She's the healer who runs the Traditional Balinese Healing Center in Ubud. While Gilbert is living in Bali she visits Wayan with a banged up knee and the two quickly become friends. When Gilbert learns that Wayan desperately wants a house, the author raises money through her friends back in New York--and by the end of the book Wayan has purchased a plot of land.

We visited Wayan--because I read the book and was curious to meet one of the main characters, and even more so because my 5-year-old daughter, Paris, broke out in a rash on the trip.

Big red sores that oozed thick yellow liquid popped up all over Paris's face on the second day of our vacation. They didn't itch or hurt but they looked frightening. Like any mother, I got nervous--especially since we were a full day's worth of traveling from home. So we brought Paris to a traditional doctor who assured us the sores weren't serious. The doctor prescribed an antihistamine and a steroid cream. Paris's rash didn't improve. It got worse.

I decided we should track down Wayan, who tells Gilbert that "when she's healing her patients she becomes an open pipeline for God's love." Sound far out? Well yes, but Gilbert says on her Web site, eliabethgilbert.com, "I would trust Wayan with any illness whatsoever."

Because of the book's popularity, I suspected that Wayan would have spruced up her place. Not so. The storefront was exactly the way Gilbert describes it in her book--"small and modest with potted plants in front."

We sat down at one of the two dining tables. A lady greeted us and we ordered the "vitamin lunch" (pictured). In her book, Gilbert says it's the best meal in Ubud.

Wayan, with a beaming smile and shiny black hair down to her waste, walked in. Before saying anything, she walked up to Paris and looked closely and carefully at the welts on her face.

"I can help. I can fix this. You wait," said Wayan. And then she disappeared upstairs.

And wait we did. We waited for some 30 minutes for our lunch. Finally, the lady carried a tray with our meal. Small piles of vegetables topped in herbs and chutneys were carefully arranged on a plate--each labeled identifying the food's healing properties.

Red rice: healthy heart
Grilled coconut: rheumatitis
Tomato chutney: healthy gums
Mutabilis leaf: stomach gas
Bean sprouts: weak muscles
Bean sprouts--to strengthen weak muscles

Paris and Dante were reluctant to try the food, so Wayan's daughter Tutti (another character from the book; pictured below) encouraged them and Tutti actually hand-fed Paris her entire meal.

Wayan finally returned and she and her assistant (pictured below) spent about 30 minutes washing Paris's face with hot, wet leaves that smelled like eucalyptus. I also allowed Wayan to give Paris pills (I can't believe I did this) but Wayan told me that Paris's rash was something that was hurting her inside and I totally believed this woman, who barely spoke English and was completely spacey and New Agey--though warm.

Honestly, the rash disappeared before our eyes. Her large welts faded.

Next, Wayan tried to remove the water from my husband Anthony's ear. Poor Anthony was nearly going deaf after he spent a day jumping into the pool with the kids. She wasn't successful but she told him that he needed to have someone remove wax from his ear and that she had a friend who could do this. We were leaving so we didn't take her up on it but when we got home Anthony had a doctor do this and it solved the problem.

We spent four hours relaxing at her clinic, chatting, eating, sipping turmeric tea. We could have gotten a massage. It was such a comfortable, healing experience--so different from a visit to a doctor in the United States.

Kintamani

When you tell small children that you're going to visit a volcano, they get quite excited.

"Will there be lava?"

"Will it be on fire?"

"No, Mommy, I'm afraid! Too scary!"

While the several volcanoes rising above the center of the island of Bali are active, they're certainly not scary. Our kids quickly realized this when our driver pulled the van up to the town of Kintamani, where we got an upclose view of Gunung Batur.

"Where's the lava?"

"I thought we were going to see a volcano?"

Bali's second-tallest mountain hasn't had a major eruption since 1963. It has spewed a few times since then but sightings of fresh, hot lava are rare. The double caldera volcano with one crater inside another is a sight to see. You get the best views from Kintamani, a touristy spot about an hour an a half from Ubud. Buses drop tourists off here, where restaurants overlooking the mountain serve piles of mediocre food buffet-style. We all got a case of the runs after our meal at one of the eateries but we enjoyed the views and fresh, mountain air.

"We're up so high! Does it snow up here?"

The answer is no, but there are pine trees.

Quote of the trip

"I wish San Francisco was Bali--it's so beautiful here."
—4-year-old Kaya, who lives in San Francisco

A 5-year-old's impression of Bali

One night at a restaurant in Ubud, my 5-year-old daughter, Paris, drew this picture of a Balinese women with a basket of fruit atop her head.

As we drive around the island, we see women walking along the side of the road, balancing towers of offerings, fruit, and flowers on their heads. Paris is so impressed by this--and was especially in awe when she saw someone carrying a table, a big one.

"How does she do that?"

Paris actually tried one night, walking around with a book on her head. It fell to the ground with the first step.

"I can't do it, Mom!"

"You need to practice!"

"No, I think it's magic!"

Gunung Kawi

When I told my daughter, Paris, and her friend, Kaya, that the monolithic rock carvings at Gunung Kawi were memorials to kings and queens, their eyes lit up. They're at that age when anything remotely related to princesses gets them excited.

"What about princesses? Is this place about them too?"

Gunung Kawi is an extraordinary temple complex outside Ubud, where rows of ancient royal tombs (called candi) are cut into stone lining the banks of the Pakerisan River. It dates back to the 11th century but the Balinese aren't entirely certain of its significance. Some claim that each candi is a memorial to a member of ancient Balinese royalty (along with a few of their concubines); others believe all 10 of the tombs were carved out of the rock face in one hard-working moonlit night by the fingernails of the mighty Kebo Iwa, a Balinese giant possessing supernatural powers. And people such as my daughter thinks it's where Princess Jasmine (of the Dinsey film Aladdin) "comes on vacation."

A morning in Ubud

Ubud sits in the center of Bali, in the mountains where the jungle is thick and the air a tad cooler. It’s the arts and culture hub of the island and art studios, stylish boutiques, bustling restaurants, and bohemian-style inns line the town's tangle of streets. It’s where you go to buy an original painting, see a shadow puppet show, and sample authentic Indonesian cuisine. It’s where you go to get a taste of Bali’s rich, artful culture.

Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the recent bestseller Eat, Pray, Love, described Ubud, as "a small Pacific version of Santa Fe, only with monkeys walking around and Balinese families in traditional dress all over the place." Yes, the art scene is that sophisticated here.

We arrived in Ubud in the morning. Our driver dumped all seven of us off at the outdoor market in the center of town. We made our way through the maze of stalls, the little girls, Paris and Kaya, quickly spotting dresses made from batik fabric, beaded sandals, atta grass purses.

"I want that dress! I want that! Mommy!"

We bought the girls dresses—two for $5. Bali is a bargain, especially if you’re willing to bargain. Those dresses started out at $5 each. With prices so cheap, it was hard to say no to the kids.

"Those sandals are so cute! Can I have them?"

"Sure."

"Of course, I'll buy you the flute." (It was only $2.)

Onto the produce area, where a vendor shared samples of exotic fruits: passion fruit, rambutan, snake fruit, apple bananas. My son tasted the custard inside of a mangosteen fruit—and kept asking for more and more. I picked up a bag filled with 10 long, fragrant vanilla beans--$2.50. In San Francisco, I recently paid $20 for two beans at a gourmet market.

Our friends Veronique and Mark wanted to buy a painting so we left the market to browse the town's many art galleries. They found exactly what they wanted in the first one, an oil painting with Sanskrit writing swirled with sensuous colors and a stone Buddah.

We took at break for lunch at Casa Luna, a three-story open-air restaurant. Brightly colored art done by local children adorned the walls. We started with fresh fruit juices: lime-ginger, carrot-turmeric, mango. And then onto fern salad, potato curry, grilled fish topped with a chili relish. Final course: a gooey chocolate yogurt cake. Casa Luna owner and cookbook author Janet de Neefe also runs regular Balinese cooking courses. Next trip, I'm signing up.

Onto the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, where mischievous, long-tailed macaques swung from the vines of the tightly knit canopy above. Some 300 of them keep the herd of tourists entertained--noshing on bananas, carrying their babies on their backs, picking off fleas from one another, and showing off their acrobatics. It's one big circus.

"Mommy! Can we take home a monkey?"

That's one souvenir that I had to say no to.

Balinese offerings

The Balinese are artists. They paint, carve, sculpt, mold, sew, build, weave. They make shadow puppets, batik sarongs, silver charms, hand-carved masks, ceramic bowls. They sell their creations everywhere you go. Art galleries--big modern ones that you'd expect to find in SoHo and small, funky ones run out of people's homes--line the two-lane roads that wind around the tiny island.
But while the Balinese are known for making and selling beautiful artwork, their most artful creations are the offerings they craft for the Hindi gods. A gift to a higher being must be attractive, so they're pieces of art. Offerings come in all different forms, but they're typically no larger than a salad plate and consist of a palm leaf woven into a bowl shape and filled with flowers, incense, a few rupee, rice, maybe an M&M or a Ritz cracker. An even simpler version is a banana leaf envelope filled with rice. An offering can only be presented to a god once, so people make new ones, again and again, throughout the day. They bless them with holy water and say their prayers holding them.
Offerings are often placed on an altar, though they don't require a special home. The Balinese believe that any place that receives regular offerings accumulates sacred energy, eventually becoming sacred itself. And so the Balinese scatter their offerings everywhere about the island--on roads and beaches, in shops and restaurants, on the dashboards of cars and buses, beneath the spreading banyan trees, and at crossroads where troublesome spirits gather. Walk down a street in Bali and you'll see hundreds of offerings, lovingly and thoughtfully crafted pieces of art.
For Balinese festivals, rites of passage, and other ceremonies, offerings can be a huge undertaking, requiring extended families, neighborhoods, or even whole villages to work together for weeks on end. Each element is a symbol and each color carries meaning. You might see exotic fruits built into a pyramid on a golden tray, to be carried to the temple atop a woman's head. Or maybe a roasted pig adorned in flowers.

Slide show: The people of Bali: Part II

I added many photos to the slide show: The People of Bali.

Slide show: The people of Bali

Throughout our trip, my husband and I have been photographing the Balinese people, who are notably gracious, warm, and friendly. Here's a slide show featuring our best photos; we will add to this during our trip.