The forty minute ride from the airport to the town of Ubud was absorbing. Rina and I stared out the windows of the hotel car, rubbernecking, trying hard not to blink lest we miss something. Most of the time we were trance-like and speechless but once in a while there was an audible sharp intake of breath from either one of us, and an occasional shout to "look at that over there!" or "hurry, check this out!" as we jabbed our fingers against the glass pointing at something out-of-this-world unusual or beautiful outside. This type of exchange between us was repeated many times over during our short trip.
Bali is steeped in tradition and the Balinese are extremely spiritual and talented folk. Art and ceremony is part and parcel of daily life here and the best place to experience all this is in Ubud, a town in the middle of the island, where the culture and people have not been tainted or ruined by outside forces. Here everyone is an artist in one form or another, be they dancers, painters, sculptors, musicians, actors, batik designers or puppet masters. So this is where we chose to stay, in the heart of it all.
Bali is magical. It is an island full of wonder and surprises. And we tried to drink in as much of it as we could in such a short time, but in small languorous sips, the way you would fine wine. My succeeding posts will be dedicated to this enchanting island and my romance with it. Please bear with me as I linger, I'm not ready to come down from this high I'm feeling. :)