Well almost lovely readers…more to the rim where we consume a third of our body weight in Indonesian smorgasbord having been on the road since 7am, sans Breakfast, and which almost immediately vacated said body but damn it tasted good while it lasted! But I digress…

Started with a quick exploration of a silver shop, a bypass of the wooden carvings, kites, metal and quartz specialists and on to a temple where our driver, the kind, sweet Dewa, helps us don sarongs in respect for the gods before letting us loose to wander amidst ancient monuments bathed in moss, marvel at the massive Koi in the lake, strike silly yoga poses and listen to the tinkle of laughter from children playing in one of the ponds.

All the result of a slight sugar high thanks to a visit to a farm specializing in Kopi Luwak coffee. For the unfamiliar, that’s a coffee originating from Mongoose (Palm Civet) poop. These little chappies (mean little buggers too!) carefully select the best cocoa beans, have a good old munch then poop them out, from which the now semi digested bean is harvested, husked and ground into the most rare and expensive coffee on the planet. Now what exactly was going through that ingenious farmer’s head when he hit upon that idea huh?

Well we tried some, along with eight other coffees, teas and chocolate mixes while admiring the rice paddys, the teas rather sweet and pleasant in lieu of that missing breakfast! A very special moment when our little 17yr. old Balinese guide looked through binoculars, kindly offered by BJ, for the very first time…her reaction and sheer delight at seeing the other side of the valley was palpable.

After lunching on Kintamani volcano’s lip, a downward drive to Ubud where we half heartedly wander the streets in heavy humidity, ducking for cover just as the skies burst, then join the throngs of people wading through the now deluged streets, a risky exercise indeed for many of the deep drains are missing their covers. The water to our knees and way too deep to see the path, the road, small drowning children (slight exaggeration there) but you get the picture, we giggle and slosh our way back to Dewa.

Continuing through the lush green of rice and fruit fields we smile at slender, silken sarong clad women carrying baskets on their heads, the beautiful locals and clusters of ducks in paddy fields. As well, the many, many Mopeds piled high with families, baskets, pigs and chooks as we are finally thrust into the chaos of Denpasar’s traffic and on to Seminyak and the little hole in the wall called home

What a rich tapestry this country presents and I can see why people are drawn back time and again. Quite magic indeed!

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