Bali in a weekend: Trekking up the Batur Caldera area

There are several hiking spots in Bali, but I chose the Batur Caldera trek because it afforded great views of the lake and the surrounding village, to my surprise, quite a modern village - and of course sunrise views of both mountains framing us. It was also a less strenuous trek compared to climbing Moung Batur or Agung. I'm not really a sporty person, so I just prepared myself by hiking every Saturday early morning, with Dad, on the trails in Singapore - Dairy Farm Road, Trail Route 3 on Bukit Timah Hill, Wallace Trail, Pulau Ubin. It was a weekly 2-4 hour activity that left me immensely sleepy right after.

 

Ground level mountain plants with morning dew


Being afraid that it would be quite chilly as we had to start the journey around 4-5 am to catch the sunrise on top of the trail at 6:20 am, I brought along an autumn jumper, a windbreaker, and wore a sleeveless thing underneath. My pants were those cool three-quarter length yoga type sport pants, and quite-new Columbia hiking boots. It was a pain finding the right socks here in Singapore, all sports socks seem to be at an irritating ankle length or just slightly above the ankle, this length always bites my ankles and seem to roll down one foot at times. I finally found my dream socks - I cannot remember the brand, but they had extra thick towel-like material on the soles, moisture-wicking technology, and at the desired length of above ankles! Earlier I had bought for Dad a spanish brand sport jacket and track pants because I was afraid he would be cold too, but the jacket only came in handy at our airport, brrrrr, and he trekked in a thin white cotton shirt, blue jeans and Caterpillar boots.

The road uphill was not too bad, it was actually paved over 2-3 years ago and it was neither slippery nor narrow, in fact, there were many villagers' motorbikes and vans passing us on the trek. We were the only non-locals on the road to the amusement and curiosity of the friendly village children. We were told that it was off-peak season (though there were throngs of tourists at Kuta), and during peak season our guide could do up to 5 treks a day!

I realised I was still not very fit, indeed! I had to stop at quite a few places when it got too steep - lucky for me my Dad was doing the same thing, the cold mountain air and breathing in deeply had caused me to stop and catch my breath until it regulated. My Dad got his 'second wind' and after years of being a police trainer came back to him, he bounded along happily at the last third of the trek, together with the guide, talking enthusiatically about cows (they are called 'lembu' in Indonesian) and everything about the village. I was content to lag behind and slowly strip off the windbreaker and the jumper, taking photos, in a happy bubble with the Quechua walking stick (this stick is really good, I want to buy it) and the morning sounds of the village awakening: motorbike sounds, rooster crowing, villagers waking up. It was really quite noisy compared to the stillness and silence I had experienced on Ijen Crater!

 
Cabbage crops


These baskets are used to keep the roosters inside from wandering about. They are reared to be sold as fighting roosters, a popular sport with the villagers.


Being his first trek in a foreign place with a guide, my Dad held the same kind of wonder and excitement as me when I went on my first trek. I hope I never lose this sense of wonder and wanderlust - to a city girl it is novel to witness everyday village scenes such as chickens running across the road, rows of cabbages, wildflowers in the mountainous foilage, framed with tall skinny pines, clouds that were on your eye -level, no longer above you, but right in front of you, and if the wind takes them nearer, you will be in the middle of them, blown into clouds, seeing nothing but white mist and the indistinct outline of the hazy mountains beyond.

Later we went to the Hot Spring for an hour, ahhhh... that was just perfect to soak into for the aching toes!

I have always loved baths and it was a long time since I had such a long bath until my fingertips was 'pruned'. Hoping that all parts of my body would benefit from this supposedly therapeutic experience, I made sure that the top of my head, all the way to the tips of my toes, were focused on the splish splooshy pressured water pipe coming out of the mouths of the cute statues! The place was very relaxing, no other tourist was there, and the view of the mountains was just indescribable.
      

Amazing Balinese style arrangement for a pleasing view as we relaxed in the Hot Springs which was also bereft of tourists. The view on the other side was of the lake framed by mountains, I couldn't decide which was better.

We felt like millionaires who booked the whole place for ourselves! (It turns out that many people came just when we were leaving, so I guess we were the early birds.) 

I'm not a fan of beer usually, but the price of a small Bintang anywhere is less than S$2. The rather touristic padi fields was still a nice view to gaze at while eating.



The guided trip ended with a lunch overlooking the ricefields. It was empty at first but later many other tourists (who did not climb the mountain) joined us at the Ubud area. We could also choose to go to the other sights such as batik-painting, silver craft, wooden souvenir making, but we only wanted to go to an organic coffee plantation where I saw the maker of Kopi Luwak, the civet cat, for the first time. I had tried Kopi Luwak in East Java last month - at $5 for a pot of 3 cups, it was at a much better price than in Bali - $5 for a cup. I didn't really taste the difference, but the coffee was really good coffee anyway, and as a coffee drinker I had to try it at least once in my lifetime, without any queasy feeling to the way it was produced, as the locals will happily describe to you. The two civet cats looked like a cross between a bat and a fox (actually I have never seen a fox before), a kind of evil-looking non-kitty-like cat. Also, they looked ready to tear my fingernails off, so I was immediately quite terrified of spending too much time looking at them.
 
On the same level with clouds, what a great feeling! 





 The top right of the map (from LonelyPlanet) shows the area we went to, the largest lake in Bali, Toya Bungkah Village/Hot Spring, Mount Agung - tallest peak in Bali, and Mount Batur.

I did some research online and decided to be guided by the team from Nyoman Gede Mahayuna. He's an experienced guide and mountain lover who decided to form a guide team. Due to the whole area having really low wi-fi and internet reception - as well as being in the mountains, they took a few days to reply but it was all arranged in due time as I had messaged them almost a month in advance.

Yon Ariono was our driver and co-guide, he prepared breakfast for us and provided us with hiking sticks and mineral water. He is the type of happy driver, passionate and looking like he's always up for a good laugh. I am really thankful that he brought much joy to our trip. Later I still had some energy to walk around quite a fair bit of Kuta before being totally tired and I realise, that when I get totally tired I am unable to talk to anyone, unable to talk at all, just making grunting sounds and wanting to snuggle up and fall into a deep slumber without any alarm clock waking me up at unearthly hours. =)

 
Adorable village kids and puppy found at the entrance areas to the Toya Bungkah Hot Springs, cute!!!

Calanques of Marseille: Sugiton and Marseilleveyre

Les Calanques, the famous white-rocked hills and mountains that made up the landscape of the South of France; limestone rocks on the shoreline; the waves hitting the rocks and forming some sort of inlet, commonly known as fjiords; this was possibly the first time I had heard of them and I had time during my 10 day trip to get acquainted with them.

Coming from the tropical climate often described as 'hot and humid', the walk on the rocks to reach a small, amazing beach was quite arduous. Was it the thinner, drier air that I was unaccustomed to, or the path that required some rigourous knee-lifting movements that did me in? I was not quite sure; the supposedly three quarters of an hours' journey took me more than one. Little children scrambled past me while I huffed and puffed and needed a water and muesli-bar break every fifteen minutes or so: Needless to say I felt like a grandmother for the first time, and also silently berating the nice guy who thought this walk would be effortless for me. My country is too flat and this is perhaps the first of my unique realizations while rendering philosophical thoughts on the grumpily rocky path I found my feet on, trying hard to stay positive.

So on my second day in Marseille, France; I did the Calanques at Marseilleveyre. Much to my annoyance, I was told that local families took this path on a regular basis as their sunday afternoon jaunt.

The destination is this white pebbled beach to soak up some sun on a cold early autumn's day.


I declined politely to join 3 Marseillans (their hobbies included mountain climbing in Nepal, marathon running, travelling in India for years) for their 3 hour climb at the Calanques of Sugiton. To the relief of anyone who wants to keep their original knees past sixty, there is two walks the least sporty can attempt, one pavement that led downwards into the beautiful Calanque; the other leads to the peak. I did the one leading downwards and experimented with my redscale film, taking lovely (or at least I hope) photos of the mediterranean shrubs. The plants are amazing, pine trees, green oaks that are tiny due to the harsh weather conditions, ground-covering tiny white flowers that came in bushes, and many plants with bright colored berries, red ones, some with an ombre of red and pea green. Fat brown birds flew curiously around me but stayed out of sight, their chirping sounds reflected upon the huge rocks that have stood the test of time for centuries locked me into a quiet reverie of how wonderful these three hours spent in almost-solitude, save for the ocassional walkers, who are always looking into your eyes and calling out a friendly 'bonjour'!

And then after what seems like yet another bend in the road; you chance upon the amazing sight of the Calanque of Sugiton. 'It's my favorite Calanque of them all,' declared the marathoner Marseillan who encouraged me to walk all the way down after seeing a look of abject horror on my face at the thought of subjecting my knees to such rigours again.

The sight brought me to tears as Nicki Minaj's 'Va-va-voom' voomed in my ishuffle.

There, at the curve, shaded by small pines; with the sun in my eyes, the white rocky cliffs at the back and at the sides, in the front; the sea, a deep blue. The awe of nature, its beauty, the sight of something majestic yet humble that I had never expected to see, the cumulation of it all just washed upon me, that hey, I have reached this place. Just like the explorers of old who have found a place no one knew, I felt a strange sense of wonder and belonging. A city girl like me who comes from a flat land of buildings. No one ever expected I could find my way here, in so many aspects. Though my city is one of the richest in the world, travelling to this part of the world is a luxury, for most. (But thanks to the declining Euro this trip is cheaper than what it used to be.) I thought that I would be shopping in the old city area, eating in cafes and restaurants and going in pretty much the places I and my feet would be comfortable in.

Who knew that I would find myself in a place like this; Calanque de Sugiton?

 

All photos taken at Marseilleveyre, with Lomo 800 Color film and camera Vivitar UWS.