Volcanos and villages

Getting out off tourism central is a relieving change. There is no wifi, no pop music and no more offers of "taxi" (though I must say these are very friendly in Ubud). The rain has hampered my ability to really enjoy the experience. Not being able to walk and meet locals and see beyond the fog has made it a little boring. I feel like I'm trapped by the rain and a minivan. Add the obligatory travel cold and it's not so fun.

But arriving in Sideman, a weaving village of rice terraces and views of the holy Mt Agung volcano has certainly renewed my enthusiasm. The town sits on the hillside overlooking valleys and mountains. When the torrential rain stops, the fields fill with sinewy men and women tending to the multitude of crops and few animals they keep. Here, people are genuinely friendly and excited to meet a stranger. Land of smiles indeed.

Balinese generally have one of four names, indicating birth order, so it is very easy to remember the names of people: Wayan, Made, Nyoman or Ketut. We are shown through the village by Made. As we walk past the school the students are dismissed and come roaring out with calls of "hello!" These are the younger children, who go to class in the morning, the older children go after lunch. The boys make stupid faces and demand photos so they can see themselves with stupid faces. They show off by counting to 10 in English then clutch their bellies and laugh before dashing off down the road home. The girls hang back shyly but with the boys gone they try to chat in English... what is your name!? My name is... That conversation repeats a number of times along with pointing at animals and naming them.

The local weaving factory is a simple affair, but the work place is an OH&S nightmare. Looms swinging across the only work space, backs and necks straining and poor light must pay havoc on the workers. But they have good company and music. I just wonder what the factories that the tourists don't see are like.

There are caged animals everywhere. Even the prized roosters are kept under woven baskets. Dogs, rabbits, kittens are caged. Cows are tied up. The chickens, though seem to be free range. The street dogs are in varying stages of health, some are so mangy and skinny they could drop dead any minute.

Sitting by the river with men bathing on the other side we eat a locally made lunch from Banana leaves. It is the most delicious meal I've had here, but I'm glad I didn't add the chilli sauce. I can idealize the Balinese lifestyle quite easily in that moment.

Another couple of hours driving through more rain, reveals another breathtaking view when the rain clears. Lake Batur and the volcano of the same name appears as the fog lifts. This volcanic landscape is exactly what I had imagined. The villagers here are even more excited by visitors and I chat with a painter about his family as well as an old woman carrying at least 10kgs of grass cuttings on her head.

These snippets of Bali are what I was hoping for, but they are limited on this tour. With a cold and injured arm stopping me from being able to snorkel, I decided to quit the tour group and head back to Ubud for some rest and independence. I think Bali is not really intrepid enough for Intrepid or I am too intrepid for Intrepid.