First impressions of Bali
Bali was my way of baby steps into Asia. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I wasn’t sure what sort of Westerner I’d be. Would I fall in love with the culture and the scenery and the people and the fact that everything is cheap as chips? Or would I be like the woman who dared to write about just how much she hated Bali (and sparked heaps of online discussion)?
Flying in at 11 p.m. on New Year’s Eve immediately threw me into its brilliant chaos: motorbikes dodging through traffic, people huddled around fried rice carts on the street, fireworks being set off in every backyard and every balcony (real fireworks, my American friends—the type that go into the sky, not just a sparkler to set off on the road).
But I quickly fell for Bali. Sure, some parts are touristy. And a few times in Seminyak, I felt as if I never left Australia (as I sipped a proper latte at Tuck Shop surrounded by beautiful blondes, mostly). But as I rode my motorbike on a shortcut through a rice paddy with the sun blazing down, as I sipped a mango smoothie in a thatched-roof hut after a canyon ridge trek, as I completed a sun salutation watching the rain pour down and listening to thunder rolling—I realized that I really like Bali. A few of the things that instantly won me over:
The daily offerings: A beautiful splash of color on every road and in every home, and a constant reminder of the devotion of Balinese people to their beliefs.
The street food: Barbecued and chili-rubbed corn on the cob. Fried rice. Fried noodles. Fresh rambutans and mangosteens. Rice in a triangle-shaped banana leaf, and other things wrapped in a banana leaf that I haven’t quite figured out what they are, but they’re spicy and fresh and delicious, and really—what else matters?
Perfectly-sliced fruit: One of my weird “I’m-an-only-child” things is that I really like my fruit to be sliced thinly, and I don’t like to do it myself. So I have been in HEAVEN every morning when I wake up in Bali: breakfast usually consists of fruit that is all sliced up and arranged artistically on my plate. And after a spa treatment, they’ll serve you fruit satays, which are just fresh fruit kebabs. It’s brilliant.
Fresh fruit juices: There’s the simple brilliance of slashing off the top of a coconut and sticking a straw in it. There’s the weird-but-delicious combination of pineapple, mint and ginger. There are countless combinations of tropical fruits (mango, papaya, pineapple, avocado) and herbs (mint and lemongrass) and mixers (soy milk and carob and honey) and pretty much anything else you can imagine, all thrown into a blender and beautifully presented with an artful twist of a lime or a fresh flower.
Motorbike rides: “Road rules” seems to be a bit of an oxymoron here, and every ride is a thrilling rush to not, you know, fall off and die—but it’s also incredibly liberating and satisfying to ditch the trapped feeling of being stuck in a taxi jammed in incessant traffic. I love the adventure of driving it myself, but it’s also brilliant to hop on the back with my camera and enjoy the view.
Rice paddies: Maybe it’s just because it’s the wet season, but they’re just so darn green. When you see the men working wearing those cone-shaped hats with the palm trees towering ahead, it just feels like you’re somewhere very beautiful, yet very far away from home.
What were your first impressions of Bali? Love or hate?
