This brought us new freedoms as the ‘back route’ to N Ubud was just 20 minutes on 2 wheels (vs 40 on 4), and took us through gorgeous countryside, and across a rather unnerving bridge (which is sometimes even more unnervingly ‘closed’ resulting in a splash through the ford instead).
On our way home we made a planned stop to hang out with Arya the son of Made (our cycling guide) who had kindly agreed to take us kite flying – local style. He was just back from University (hospitality school) for the day, and it was about that time in the late afternoon when the skies fill with kites. They are all made from bin bags and light bamboo, stuck together by piercing overlapping pieces of plastic with lit incense sticks (now that’s a trick we’d never have guessed!). Arya had learned how from his grandfather. He gave us all sorts of tips like the right weight of thread/wire for the wind strength, and size of kite, and also how to string it properly (apparently we’d tried to string ours upside down – doh!
Its really hard to describe the sense of space and serenity when there are dozens of these kites flying so high in the sky (length of string released definitely appears to be a source of pride!).
There are big kites…..
…..and swan kites…..
…..and then there are the ‘rocket’ kites?!?!?! The young likely lads were giggling a lot when the released their ‘rocket’ near us.
To continue our inadvertent day of local experiences, we were relaxing by the pool and Augus shinned up a tree, not for coconuts this time, but for a fruit which we have still yet to identify, but enjoyed tasting with him! Eating from the Arcadia Villa garden has been such an unexpected bonus.
For dinner Robin, James and I headed to Gianyar to the night market (leaving BMB (Bob, Millie, Bella) at home with a safe packet of pasta. In comparison with Ubud which is artistic, sophisticated and vey much catering for tourists, Gianyar is a local local town, and we were the only gringos in the market.
Colourful from a distance, like many of these places you get close and see that the colour is often the trash. Having said that, as ever in Bali, cheerful bright offerings abounded, and there were plenty of Bali dogs curled up awaiting for whatever pickings would come their way.
….and so we opted for the pig…
….along with a side of entrails….
Neither of these faces look convinced to me!
And here’s why….actually it probably wouldn’t have been too bad if it had been hot, but actually the fat had congealed which made it tough to swallow.