STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

The one thing you need in your travel kit when you climb to Besakih is a sarong. We arrived at the temple early in the morning to find a festival on in full swing. But to our dismay discovered that we had left our sarongs at home. A group of youngsters smelled opportunity. They picked up a few sarongs from a clothesline and tied the first one around my husband in the blink of an eye. They were renting us the sarongs—torn and dirty—for a fee. Before we could react, our friend herded us towards a shop where we bought new sarongs—for a bomb. Word had got around that we were in desperate need of sarongs. With an alacrity that any Indian temple tout would have been proud of, shopkeepers had doubled prices.
Like most Balinese temples, Besakih is an open-air affair. The main courtyard is the principal focus of worship. A padmasana tiga (triple lotus shrine) is dedicated to Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu. Around noon, we left for Tenganan, a village of Bali Aga people, the descendants of the original Balinese who inhabited the island before the arrival of the Majapahit kings from Java. Bali Aga are reputed to be exceptionally conservative and travel books report that life has changed little for them since the 11th century.

As we set foot in the village, a swanky Honda car drove past and we could see motorbikes parked in neat rows on the main village road. A guide led us inside a house to look at textiles and lontar (specially prepared palm leaves) strips. The village is the only place in Southeast Asia where geringsing  double-ikat textiles are made. Inside, we saw two children sat transfixed on a divan before a television set watching MTV. Eleventh Century life indeed. The artwork was as good—and old—as gold though. We purchased an exquisite lontar strip with the story of Ramayana etched on it.

Next stop, Candi Dasa. Originally a fishing village, it has grown into a popular resort of late. It is often compared to Kuta, but is calmer than the latter. We lunched on bebek betutu (smoked duck), a local delicacy cooked with herbs and spices. On our way back, we stopped at Pura Goa Lawah (Bat Cave Temple). Thought to be more than 1,000 years old, Goa Lawah is famous for temple rituals pertaining to the after-life. The cave in the cliff face is a nest of bats that fly out into the darkness after dusk. The cave is said to lead all the way to Besakih and the bats provide sustenance for the legendary giant snake Naga Basuki, which is believed to live in the cave.

We got off at Semarapura (Klungkung), a few miles to the south of Goa Lawah, at the insistence of our driver. Once the centre of Bali’s most important kingdom, most tourists come to the town for a glimpse of the Kertha Gosa complex. When the Dewa Agung dynasty moved here in the early 18th century, the Semara Pura was established. The palace was laid out as a large square with courtyards, gardens, pavilions and moats. In a corner of the complex, the Kertha Gosa (Hall of Justice) was built as the supreme court of the Klungkung kingdom. Its ceiling is completely covered with fine paintings depicting, among others, Bima’s travels in after-life and Garuda’s search for the elixir of life.
We returned to our hotel at Sanur as dusk was setting in. Thankfully, there were no hawkers on the beach in front of the hotel. With our feet planted in the sand, we marvelled at the sea which had been bathed orange by the setting sun. It was peaceful and quiet again, just the way it should be.