- Part 1: The Universe Gives Me A Nudge
- Part 2: Bangkok & Rest & Realisation In Koh Lanta
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Sleek. Futuristic. Efficient. Calm. That’s Singapore airport. The gateway to a metropolis where skyscrapers rub shoulders and absorb heat in the day which they radiate at night. It really is hot in the city. And intense.
I was there to report on the swimming portion of the World Aquatics Championships although I don’t really intend to talk much about work here.
Suffice to say that despite it being a global championships, it felt like a low-key meet and in stark contrast to the raucous joy of La Défense Arena at the Paris Olympics a year earlier.
I’ve worked on events before where I’ve spent a fortnight in a place and never really seen anything bar the hotel, the venue and glimpses from the media bus shuttling you between the two.
I had a full day in Singapore following the meet so headed out to meet a friend, Craig Lord who was reporting for The Times.
We’d already visited Chinatown where the boisterousness of one particular table of diners appeared to be at odds with the orderly nature of Singapore.
We headed over to Gardens by the Bay, a huge urban park on reclaimed land. It featured Supertree Grove, described as “funnel-shaped canopies of wintry, steel branches set atop towering steel and concrete trunks measuring between 25 to 50 metres in height.”
As darkness fell, the trees lit up and up we went on the skywalk offering us a glimpse that was very much bright lights, big city.
We descended into a light show which was mesmeric, as if time had slowed down. It was all a bit Bladerunner.
On to Raffles and into the queue for the Long Bar. It was here that the Singapore Sling – a gin-based cocktail – was created and where tradition calls for you to brush peanut shells on to the floor once you’ve finished eating them. We were soon in there and despite it being iconic and famous, it actually felt very relaxed.
I managed a Singapore Sling and may even have had another as well. Next stop, food.
We’d totally been on the tourist trail of course but it had been a lovely glimpse into Singapore and that was my trip there finished.
Temples, Tranquility & Nature In Bali
Next stop Bali.
I had no idea what to expect. It had always sounded like such a beautiful place but so very far away and somewhere I didn’t really think I’d go. I knew it would be green and lush with beautiful beaches but apart from that, I’m not ashamed to say I knew little.
And here I was. In less than three hours I’d touched down and once I’d navigated the customs declaration, I walked out into the heat.
I had a couple of nights booked in Sanur, not far from Denpasar, but after that, who knew where I’d end up?
I really wanted somewhere quiet, some solitude, somewhere like Koh Lanta where I’d completely wound down.
I looked online for recommendations and read about Pemuteran in north-west Bali. It was, apparently, peaceful and authentic – what does that mean? – where you’d be far from the madding crowds.
Pemuteran it was then. And the journey was spectacular. Lush, green and mountainous. Coffee plantations; waterfalls and lakes; monkeys; a turquoise sea to the right as we descended.
I’d booked Kubu Sari guest house which ended up being my home for the next 10 days or so. I’d intended to travel around a bit but I’d forgotten one thing – it was peak season.
I’d been spoiled in Koh Lanta where four people on the beach meant it was packed. And noisy.
I think I’d got a bit territorial to be honest. Some might say precious even. I don’t think I flounced down the beach. I may have marched a bit though and thrown my towel while exhaling LOUDLY.
It had black, volcanic sand; the hills as a perfect backdrop; the Biorock coral restoration project which is accessible from shore allowing you to explore underwater sculptures.
Diving off Manjangan Island with Java in the distance; eagles and white starlings at West Bali National Park; black monkeys flying through the trees; rainforest.
Pura Pemuteran, a hillside Balinese Hindu temple; an abandoned helicopter in the hills with no explanation; the statue of Ganesha – the elephant-headed god of wisdom – by the sea.
The flavours and smells; lemongrass, chilli; dragon fruit; steamed food in banana leaves; coconut.
Every morning at the guest house I’d get an omelette with banana and small, sweet cakes along with strong Balinese coffee.
In the evenings I’d head to one of the local eateries, one of several women eating alone. Then I’d make my way up the track away from the main road towards the hills and the quiet, back to Kubu Sari. And I’d sit outside for a couple of hours, just relaxing and thinking.
I ended up staying there the whole time I was in Bali. I’d had a reaction to being stung by fire coral which meant it was inadvisable to go in the sea for a few days so any thought of heading over to the east coast to dive were null and void.
I was happy where I was, I really didn’t want to jostle with people anywhere or have any tranquillity interrupted. And there was just no need to move on.
Until I had to return to the capital, that is. It was busy and bustling, noisy and chaotic.
It’s considered over-touristed in certain areas and I’ve seen Bali described as a victim of mass tourism. The problems seem to run deep – cultural insensitivity, illegal activities, and a disregard for local laws and customs. What isn’t in dispute is that there’s been an impact on infrastructure and resources and only time will tell whether the situation can be satisfactorily resolved.
I’d enjoyed my time in Bali, I’d really relaxed. But next up was Western Australia, the object of my wanderlust for many years.