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Joel had introduced us, when we joined on his morning dog-walks, to an ancient foot path, paved with stones reminding us of those we used in Soundcliff’s garden… reportedly Indonesian.
These are the backsides of the properties with entrances along the motor road, resorts or homes, often replacing the very rice fields which we all come to see…
Although I doubt these lower steeps were ever farmed… I see no evidence of the necessary irrigation system. That lowest pavilion seems obviously most desirable for the reward of its hard-won seclusion after an endless flight of steps…
The path follows the crest while cars must traverse a more winding route down through the river valley, snaking along the side of this ridge. A pleasant half-hour trek brought us to Ubud town, which has long held the reputation of being an art center.
Along the way there was a temple being rebuilt, giving me opportunity to observe construction techniques.
Bamboo scaffolding, of course, & some great timbers curing at the ready… Stephen has come to accept my curiosity about such mechanique… I’m always looking at functional design, studying how things work, fascinated by tools & hardware…
still looked a bit out of place…
When we’d bought nice batik-ed shirts on the first day, but saw other interesting shops while Joel gave us a driving tour, which we wanted to visit having more time. We ambled, shopping & soaking-up the local life along the wildly eroded sidewalks of narrow Hanuman street while the sun got hotter… soaking our new shirts in turn.
Here, an interesting man was placing one of the offering baskets along the street side, inside a tender moment of obvious devotion inside this traditional practice… under his bleached hair!
A beer with lunch helped to cool us off. On our way to visit the nearby Monkey Forest… the shop of an ikat weaver & her husband, who made her wonderful patterns into clothing absorbed us. They were intriguing enough to inspire us to return before the end of our trip for more shirts, understandably more expensive, but we rationalized that some will become gifts later on.
While monkeys were not seen generally, the Monkey Forest is a preserve containing several ancient temples… lots of Macaque & almost as many tourists… sometimes ourselves acting a bit like monkeys!
A rather sudden rain squall soaked us as we scrambled into a shelter already crowded with Japanese families & a clutch of Balinese children, one of whom asked where we were from, wanting to practice her already good English. One of the forest’s residents joined the human pack, grabbing a bag of chips which he proceeded to devour close to Stephen while hanging on to a banana he was hoarding for later.
He began acting more aggressive & peed on the platform, rapidly clearing most of the crowd while a ranger came along to manage him with a more playful, mocking aggression & some kind of favored leaves.
We walked back along the main shopping street to find a taxi to drive us home after a tiring day on foot… we passed on the opportunity to have the dead skin on our feet nibbled by fish…
I’ll leave us as with some of the holiday decor we’d encountered, beginning with a tropical tree wrapped in festive Mylar… inviting me to think toward doing that to our apricot next holiday season for Open Studio…
Then… a street-buffering garden
