After a not so promising start to our trip we sheepishly dismounted the bus, ready to be swept up into the flow of Ubud life. Hansel and Gretel style, we followed the trail of offerings along the road, passing the carefully put together baskets of incense, crackers and flowers, until we settled upon the second homestay we happened to look in. Welcoming hosts, clean tiled floors and classic carved wooden doors made for a quick decision, made even simpler by the £7 a night price tag.
Eager to abandon our overstuffed backpacks and start exploring we were struck by something we hadn’t anticipated in our admittedly already scant preparations: the possibility of rain. After an hour of watching from our window, hopelessly wishing we had sacrificed some precious sarong space in our bags for raincoats, we made the mad dash in search of anything waterproof. Draped in the finest neon ponchos the nearest warung had to offer, we were ready at last to venture out into the winding, traffic chocked streets of Ubud.
Although Ubud may be championed as a spiritual haven, attracting an international crowd of yogis and soul searchers, there is certainly nothing remedying about the congestion and noise that unfurls itself daily in the town’s centre. Ironically, the town is better done on foot anyway, so as not to miss out in the maze of streets, where every turning holds a new gem ready to be discovered. It is all too easy to while away your time in this way; drifting aimlessly from each cafe or boutique to the next, your only purpose being to sample every type of smoothie bowl, vegan bar or coconut formulated food possible. And, for much of the time, this is just what we did. Ubud, though, has so much more to offer than visits to Yoga Barn and the living out of the Eat Pray Love cliche.
If you are to pull yourself out of this sleepy reverie and take a hike around the Campuhan Ridge area, the landscapes will be transformed into those of infinite rice paddies, broken only by makeshift art stalls and the odd passer by. It was here that we opted to stop for a traditional Balinese massage, in a spa set above the waterlogged fields on wooden sticks, appearing more tranquil than any of its rivals in town. As well as surpassing our expectations, the treatment was made sweeter by the addition of complimentary banana pancakes and ginger tea, rather than a sweeping spiritual diagnosis.
In town we found our bona fide helping of culture in the form of a cooking class from the Warung opposite our homestay, which we stumbled across after an unsuccessful attempt to barter down the price of another, more established class from a tourist office. Here, the lovely Pushpa closed down her entire Warung for us, spending two hours teaching us the Balinese culinary staples. Although still vegan nothing was dehydrated, cold pressed or purified, and yet the food was still undeniably healthy, everything including the gado-gado peanut sauce, coconut milk curry and sweetcorn fritters made entirely from scratch.
In some ways Ubud is like it’s own little cosmos, with people moving on a different time; to a different tune. Restaurants open and close earlier, while bars favour mellow acoustic to heavy club beats. Maybe it was the special energy of Ubud that meant we didn’t miss it’s lack of nightlife; content in our routine of going fresh-faced to a dinner lounged on pillows, then retiring to our rooms for a long unbroken sleep, waking up with the morning light, and repeating. Or maybe, it was the lingering jet-lag that meant the period of recuperation Ubud offered us was welcomed in our time of great detoxing need. However, maybe our decision to book a fast boat onto Gili T, Indonesia’s number one party island, for the next leg of our trip is also revealing about our sense of satisfaction.
But hey, isn’t well-being all about finding a healthy balance?
Frankie Goes To 