Bali Day 3 - Lovina and back

Bali Day 3.
This morning I awoke with a rumbly stomach and all the signs that I had potentially contracted Bali belly. Not the best way to start the day before a long car trip. I made my way to breakfast but ate sparingly and mainly took the opportunity to fill up on fluids. By the time the taxi driver turned up I had vented what I could and was as ready as I was going to be for the journey.
We left Seminyak, and to be honest I had no real idea where we were going, other than later in the day we would make it to Lovina Beach.
Our first stop was a Temple. A small entry fee and I was able to wander around at my leisure. I am writing this up a month later and too be honest I have forgotten which temple it was and what it was devoted to. It had lovely grounds and a huge sign suggesting that menstruating women should not enter the temple. It also had a toilet and I made good use of that. It was a nice day and very serene and a pleasure to be there.

A nice Balinese Temple

You may need to schedule your visit

Our next stop was a water temple. The Lake Bratan and Ulun Danu Temple at Bedugul. Bedugul is in the mountains and comparatively cool. It was once more a pleasant spot with the lakes and the mountains and lovely lush grounds. On the downside it is very much a tourist attraction, even for the Balinese, and it had more a feel of a botanical gardens with amusements included. Boats for hire, performances, which I missed, from local acts and a very private ceremony in one of the smaller temples, that attracted a lot of visitors and some security to keep the visitors out. A religious ceremony that foreigners would not and should not be invited to. I saw some of the ladies afterwards in their lovely costumes and one of them flashed me a smile. My heart went boom,(stop it Bludger there is no hope there), and she passed on by.

I also found a toilet here and made good use of it.
Along the way we had stopped at a the top of a mountain pass, at a Strawberry farm. I am not sure why we stopped, I think that it was an opportunity for me to eat. But food was pretty low down my list of priorities. I had a pot of tea to keep the fluids up. It did have a magnificent view across to Gunung Agung (Mount Agung) a large volcano - not quite extinct.
So we headed onward toward Singaraja and then to Lovina Beach. We stopped at the GitGit waterfall so that I could visit the falls. I was happy to do so, but was put under duress to hire a guide. I was given a rather pathetic story about how he took no money and all the takings were donated to a local orphanage. He wanted an outrageous amount of money. One of those situations where you end up having little choice, unless you want to create a scene. I bowed to the blatant rip off and allowed this man to lead me around. Shortly after it peeved me to see other tourists, without guides, walking around quite happily. Crappity crap.

However there was a plus side, the guide was happy to take piccies of me, it is not often that the person with the camera gets into the pictures, and he also provided 2 cold and very welcome beers, which he was happy to carry around for me. The waterfalls were nice, the break from the car was nice and if I had been prepared it would have been a nice spot to spend some time and cool off in the pools beneath the falls.
Next stop was Lovina, I had a cat nap in the car on the way. In the process missing some beautiful tropical rainforest countryside.
Many tears ago, (yes I meant "years" but I made a typo, in hindsight it is not a bad mistake to make. There have been many tears.), probably around August 1983, I spent several days at Lovina Beach. My memory is vague, and I have very few photos of that era to remind me. At the time it was a remote destination, the Lonely Planet Guide of the day had little information. I remember staying in a grass hut, a Losman, and that the beach was a volcanic beach. I took a boat out and snorkeled a reef a little bit offshore. You had to live and eat with the locals. There were very few backpackers and the only permanent "white man" was a person called "Kiwi John". One of the early pioneers of a Westerner living in Bali.

Black volcanic sand at Lovina beach

Anyway modern day Lovina Beach is a tourist resort area. Not as built up as Kuta and Sanur and Seminyak, but well on the way. It has a seafront walk, with a myriad of shops and people selling all of the traditional Balinese things, i.e. shells, massages, drugs, beach ware and whatever. Also some very nice looking restaurants, cafe's and assorted bars and eateries. Probably worth a longer trip next time.
Anyway I took a walk around and did not recognise anything and made my way back to my driver. Incidentally I never got his name. It was foreign and remembering unusual names is something that I have difficulties with. I need to see the name written down and I need to hear it several times. Even for common western names I have learnt when meeting new people to repeat their name several times under my breath or else I will forget it. That applies to "babes" also, it isn't a disinterest or sexist thing.
The trip started getting a bit creepy at this stage. Previously my driver had asked if I minded if he dropped in on his sister in law. I did not mind at all, the opportunity to see a Balinese family going about there daily business was a good thing for me. One of my likes of traveling is the opportunity to learn about other cultures.
It turned out that the sister in law was the sister of his wife. And she was single. And she was looking for someone. And I was placed right next to her when we had a coffee (Kopi). And one of her sons suggested that I should stay the night. And if I came again to Bali I would be welcome to stay there. And she was struggling to make ends meet. And she needed a "good" man.
The warning bells were triggered and ringing in my ears. The lady was quite nice, somewhat younger than I, so I made polite conversation. My thoughts were roaming back to last years Vietnamese encounter and how that had not turned out very well, so I went into "protect myself mode". I didn't make any overt suggestions of interest but was polite and hopefully interesting.
I was saved, if that is the word, by the passage of time. My driver told me that to get back to Seminyak we should leave now. It was almost 5pm and we got back to my hotel at just after 8pm. During the trip back I decided that I would not mention his sister in law and leave it to him to make a move. He never said a word about her. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was not creepy after all.
 We parted on good terms. I had paid the equivalent of AUD 50 for the private use of a driver for the day, had seen some lovely places and not crapped my pants. He had a days pay and seen some of his family.
But for The Bludger the day was not over.
No a day of forbearance of food had left me hungry and I decided to risk eating.
After freshening up I walked a few minutes from the hotel and came upon a Restaurant called Piduh. It looked really nice, although almost empty, and one of its charms was 3 for the price of 2 cocktails. I sat down and ordered a Mojito. Nowhere near as good as the ones from Vivai. Pity about that. I ordered a meal and then was promptly ignored.
OK, the picture is, an almost empty restaurant with 2 bar staff and 3 waiters. I was ignored. My meal was brought out and I took the opportunity to ask for another Mojito. My first one had been emptied 10 minutes ago. No one noticed.
As I was eating a group of people came in. About 10 of them. An imperious acting woman demanded drinks and menus and acted as if she either owned the place, was a regular expecting good service, or was some sort of starlet. All 5 staff leapt to attention and pandered to their needs.
Situation: 5 staff, 1 group of 10 customers and me. After some difficulty I managed to get my free Mojito.
Once I had finished that I could not attract attention of anyone to get my bill. I seriously considered doing a runner. When I did finally get attention, the person who brought my bill turned his back on me and paid full attention to the group. I had to shout at him to get his attention to pay.
Basically I will never give this restaurant my money again.
I went home. Final trip to the toilet and sleep.
The Bludger was pretty knackered, too long in a car.

Litchfield National Park - Day 1

Sunday: The day started well. A cool night had me thinking of pulling out Doona's or an extra sheet. I started the day with a short walk and a visit to the Rapid Creek Market to pick up some fruit and veg plus some bits for the planned trip away. Then a leisurely pack and prepare for the trip.
I departed just after midday and had a quiet cruise down the Stuart Highway to Batchelor. Here I stopped at the Rum Jungle Tavern for a restorative cider. I am always concerned about dehydration on trips like this, so I like to avail myself of the facilities available at local pubs.
The Rum Jungle Tavern was a modern outback pub filled with TV's for the racing and a TAB. It had little soul or character. A pity because the name Rum Jungle evokes images for me. There used to be an Uranium mine in the area, now closed down but I have had it romanticised for me in another way. I am not sure how, but I suspect it may have been in a novel.

Batchelor has a sign proudly showing that it won Tidy Town awards in various years. Close by the sign is a stylised Castle which to me makes it more eligible to claim a Tacky Town award. I moved on.
Shortly the road enters the Litchfield National Park. At the moment the Park is covered in a light pall of smoke. You can see it in the air and smell it. The cause is controlled burn offs to prevent fierce bushfires later in the year.

Fire is a natural part of the Australian bush caused by natural sources, such as lightning and even the Aboriginals used to burn tracts of land to drive out animals and clear the way for them to walk through. The flora and fauna are adapted to it. Some seeds will not germinate until a fire has passed over them. In places the fire was close to the road but not a source of danger.
My first stop was the Magnetic Termite Mounds. These termites build large flat mounds orientated North/South to make the best use of cooling breezes and minimise absorption of the suns rays. Quite spectacular and I was reminded somewhat of Stonehenge or similar standing stones.

Next stop was the Florence falls, a waterfall falling about 20 metres into a pool below. The pool is a designated safe swimming hole. Saltwater crocodiles are a constant menace around here. Few escape an attack from a Saltie.

The falls were delightful, even with a large group of tourists in and around them. A circular path leads from the car park to the falls and back. Walking in the direction that I did a short walk leads you to a viewing platform and then down a series of steps to the bottom of the falls. It wasn't a difficult walk or climb down. The water at the bottom was crystal clear and I could see fish swimming. It was also a pleasant temperature and after the initial chill was a pleasure to be in. I swam right into the waterfall and enjoyed a scalp massage, all the while hoping that nothing solid came over the falls.
The pool is deep and quite large with almost no submerged obstructions and yet it had sufficient places to enter and exit without too much difficulty. Thank you mother nature.
It was late afternoon by this stage and after air drying I dressed and continued along the path. This section followed a creek through Monsoon Rain Forest and then a gentle climb back to the car park. It was very pretty. Next time I have visitors they will be forced to come out here.
I made my way back to the car and drove to the nearby Buley rock hole. Not quite as spectacular as the Florence falls. But much more accessible without the walk to and fro. The rock hole comprises a series of small water holes linked by rapids and small waterfalls. Once again very pretty,but as it was more accessible and smaller it felt more crowded. I did not swim I was content to just explore the area.

From there I eschewed the other highlighted sights and made my way to my accommodation. At this stage I was feeling really good and at peace with the world. I was looking forward to a couple of nights "glamping" in an on site safari tent with fridge, lights, power, insect screens and a queen size bed. Private facilities and a private BBQ. Well that is what the brochure said and that is what I booked. You can see where this is going can't you?
I was booked into the Litchfield Safari Camp. My first doubts crept in when I approached reception.

Reception was a card table under an awning outside a shed, with a "reception" sign to remove any doubts or confusion. That was not a problem, probably quite appropriate for this climate. Reception however was unattended. I made my way to the general store next door, well tin shed actually, assuming, correctly as it turned out, that the receptionist shared duties as storekeeper.
I queued up waiting to be served. After a short wait for two people who could not make up their minds what they wanted and then another couple who had the same problem, I announced what I wanted and it was confirmed that the attendant was also reception. He then turned his attention to the couple behind me and proceeded to have a friendly chat.
I do not like waiting.
I do not like waiting, while someone, who has effectively pushed in front of me, is served. Especially when it was an obvious chat. I started thinking up some sarcastic comments like "OK I will just go back to Darwin please give me a call when you are ready to deal with me." I restrained myself.
We all eventually moved back to reception. The couple behind me had picked up my vibe, or were polite and understood that I had arrived before them, and suggested that the receptionist deal with me first.
My booking was confirmed and I was given directions to my Safari Tent.
The couple behind me commented to me that I was "in for an experience." The tone in their voices was a warning. They mentioned to the receptionist that they didn't know that my tent existed. He replied that they were expanding. Oh I thought, I get a brand new tent.

Shattered.
Reception man, who I think is the owner, mentioned that it was a bit older and that I did not need a key as the screen door was not on it yet. I said, "well I hope that there are no mosquitoes". He said "Oh it has screens" but he looked concerned. My doubts were now high. He continued his description on how to find it. "round there...next door to my daughters place...you will probably see the kids." Well I certainly can, and hear them, and she seems to have a number of friends over for a BBQ, one of whom has parked right in front of my tent, I mean luxury accommodation.

Also my Queen sized bed has transmogrified into three single bunk beds.
I had a beer and ate my lunch, as it was now 6pm and I was starving. I investigated the tent and found that the zips on the screen doors are broken, there is no way to prevent the mosquitoes entering.

So I then walked back to reception and suggested that they had made a mistake on my accommodation. I was given a barrage of excuses and no attempt to rectify the problems. I said "it's a good job my partner has not come as we don't have a queen size bed". His face brightened "oh you are on your own then" he said. I could see the relief that I was not going to claim that a couple should be able to sleep in something bugger bigger than a single bunk bed. I did so anyway.
Quite frankly I did not get what I booked and paid for. I am pissed off.
The Bludger made the most of what he had with the aid of part a bottle of Gin before bed.