Little Buddies From Ubud

As promised two weeks ago, I shall start with effusive praise for our hotel, the Apurva Kempinski, on Bali.

It was constructed atop the majestic Nusa Dua cliff with breathtaking views of the Indian Ocean and tropical gardens, up to sixteen storeys below. Opened in February 2019, only a year before we rocked up, it surpassed expectations.

Talk about luxury, well it was sparklingly luxurious. We have never, before or since, stayed in anything that comes close. Even the hotel we stayed at in Margate didn’t quite make it! You know what I mean, sister? And what is more, we didn’t have to pay a penny, or, to be more precise, an Indonesian Rupiah.

Don’t you find that everything looks much better with sunshine, blue skies and moderate temperatures in the low thirties? This was no exception. I’m even told the Bronx looks great in summer!

After negotiating the airport style security at the entrance, x-ray scanners and body searches included, the first thing that attracts one’s attention is the moving water everywhere, especially as you pass through into the incredibly well appointed reception area.

Marble and granite adorn the walls in the same way that most of us use emulsion, but there is no glass in the windows. I’m not even sure they should be called windows, they are more like openings cut into the masonry where they forgot to install the window frames and glass. Like at the water temple in an earlier episode, the through breezes nips in through these holes, kisses the cooling water, lifts itself up and cools the occupants within. Wow, isn’t that amazing, yet so simple at the same time. People who live in hot countries certainly seem to know how to treat the warmer temperatures with respect. Refreshing.

We were offered the chance to board a golf buggy to our room. For heaven’s sake, I thought, I’m only just sixty. I think I can manage a few stairs, lifts and corridors. No, it wasn’t a problem, but it was a fair old stretch, if you were in a hurry it might well be worth calling one of the reliable carts to transport you from one point to another in the grounds.

The windowless openings were regular features throughout the hotel. We did not encounter glass until we arrived in our room. Number 3222: this was the 22nd room on the second floor of the third zone. God, we needed to get a map!

Each room was allocated its own female chaperone so I am not entirely sure we took it all in as we made our way. Never mind, if we get lost, simply call reception and they will send out a search and rescue squad.

As a blind person I had already decided that I was not going to be venturing out alone. Honestly, I could leave before breakfast and, easily, not find my way back for two or three days.

The room door was flung open and what greeted us was stupendous. The room was huge, probably as big as our entire ground floor at home. Two enormous single beds, so large they could have slept four people in each; might have been a little cosy but there would have been room to toss and turn without touching your neighbour. Sumptuous chairs, only usually found in furniture showrooms, with a desk placed along one wall and, finally, a TV the size of a cinema screen.

Everything was controlled from one touch screen, central console positioned between the two beds. This is where I need serious assistance, touchscreens are about as useful to people like me as a second groom at a wedding. Technology sometimes leaves us behind. Great for the well-sighted but just spare a thought for the visually impaired community. I can’t use modern card machines, can’t even set the temperature in my own house, if Jane goes away for a couple of nights in the middle of winter, I freeze! I need buttons.

That was just the room. Then, there was the bathroom. What a bathroom it was. Size was not an issue, it didn’t look like an afterthought where it is stuck in the corner of the bedroom, taking some of the living space away. It was voluminous and extremely airy. Electronic beyond necessity, in my opinion anyway. Surely all you need is a seat, lid, and a flush button or chain. Not this.

As soon as you needed to pay a visit, the door opened automatically, the lights flicked on, whether it was dark or not, and the lid lifted up. After doing your business it was time for another imaginary button to be touched and, hey presto, two spurts of water erupted out of the pan to clean you down, on completion of the spurts they were replaced by warm air. As you stood up the electronic flusher took over and took the waste away.

Over to the basin, no taps, just wring the hands under the sensors and it is all done. The shower was like something from a science fiction space film, you could actually enter your name and settings and it would remember who you were the next time you stepped into the cubicle. The option that I took was to ignore this and, you know what, simply turn the water on, wait until it was roughly the correct temperature, and shower. Somethings just do not need improvement. I feel society is trying to make things better where there is no need.

Just before we pop outside, the blinds were all controlled from the central console. Not sure it is really up my street as you might say. The gardens were stunning, manicured is not an apt enough word to describe it, stunning is better. Beautiful lawns surrounded by glorious blooms with gorgeous scents on the air.

Gardeners are on the go all the time, from dawn to dusk and, for all I know, dusk to dawn as well. Infinity pools were aplenty and, for want of any better judgment, I jumped in. Well, maybe I didn’t jump in, I more like lowered myself in. Not a fan, I am afraid.

People often ask, as I keep myself relatively fit, why I don’t take part in wild swimming? Listen, I haven’t yet mastered tame swimming, so I find nothing attractive about jumping into a waste filled river full of rats, or the sea, where you brush against things you last saw in the WC pan. Not even that keen on a bath, much prefer a shower as long as it lasts no longer than about two minutes. If we had been meant to immerse ourselves in water so much we would have been given fins and gills, a bit like the “Man from Atlantis!” Even he got fed up with the sea in the end, spending a few months in a shower after he transferred to “Dallas.”

The beach was pristine. The white sand resembled freshly fallen snow. Not a bit of litter anywhere, raked as good as any bunker on a top golf course. Another word would be immaculate.

Wander, on the sand, beyond the boundaries of the hotel grounds and the beach became a tip for all of humanity’s detritus, and dog’s for that matter. You get the picture. This, in my opinion, was the only disappointment. An early morning or late evening stroll, hand-in-hand. Along the strand was out of the question.

To me, the main attraction was the staircase, outdoors, which took you from the garden right up to the sixteenth floor. Each flight of the straight up and down staircase comprised 25 risers, a total of 400 in all, and provided amazing exercise each morning. We never saw another person using the stairs, they all seemed to prefer the lifts. Fine by me!

I have to confess, right here, for the first time in my life, I ignored a free excursion. The hotel was so inviting we actually spent an entire day around the resort. We had spadefuls of relaxation. We did, however, go and book ourselves on a privately escorted tour.

We had a great morning, our last in Bali, first visiting Ubud in the Bali Uplands. Surrounded by rainforest it is home to the amazing Monkey Forest. That was our first stop where we traversed very well constructed boardwalks, probably too many steps for the less able, although the nosings were pretty well highlighted.

It was quite a feeling, almost at home with nature, mischievous monkeys played up in the canopy, tropical birds sang and squawked as we stepped out along the wooden paths. Su, our guide, was superbly well informed and seemed to know everything about these little creatures.

They are extremely sociable, in the way a two year old has been trained to behave itself when important visitors are coming. It seems to be going very well and, just when the parents begin to relax, the tiny devils swoop in from the branches and will whip away your hat, or nick your water bottle or, it has been known, help themselves to items of jewellery.

One of their favourite games is to get hold of water, go to the footbridge, perch on the parapets and pour it over the poor, unsuspecting, pedestrians below. Trouble is, apparently, and it didn’t happen to us, by the time the chattering monkeys have let loose their water and retreated to the trees in haste, it only leaves innocent tourists looking down on their compatriots below. It is not unknown for the pedestrians to be shaking their fists up at the observers looking down on them from above. Talk about cunning little devils.

On the way back we stopped in at a coffee plantation. They also grew tea and made their own wonderful blends of both. The site is most famous for its own version of cappuccino. This is where the farm cats lick up the raw beans from the ground, sometimes they pick them straight from the bush, eat them and wander off. A few hours later, nature having taken its course, they excrete these gastric juice treated beans. They are then collected up, flavour enhanced by the preparation, and roasted. They are then ground, packaged and placed on shelves for sale. Samples of the coffees were served up in a wonderful little shelter on the property. I can tell you right now, the cat-poo-cino was just about the best.

On our return to the hotel, we popped along to the gym to shower, before joining the other guests awaiting transfer to the airport. I am not sure how to deal with ignorance? We were asked how we had spent our morning. When we informed our enthusiastic audience of the excursion, it was worrying how many of our fellow travellers said they didn’t know that such trips were available, didn’t even know there were monkeys on Bali.

I don’t wish to come across as a know-it-all here, although I sometimes think I have better knowledge than many, but why don’t you do your own research on a destination before you arrive? After that, it is quite simple, you engage your brain with your tongue, form the right words and ask. Maybe the answer might be yes, maybe it might be no, but unless you ask you will never know. There doesn’t seem much point in doing it after you have left. I do find it worrying how many visitors only go somewhere so that they can put a tick against a placename on a list. They go home not seeming to be any the wiser about the destination they have just visited. Oh well, it’s not for me to worry about.

Next week we will wash up in Western Australia. That’s a figure of speech, we will actually land at Perth’s International Airport, after a slightly unpleasant experience inflight. See you next time.