"Picture three minuscule desert islands, fringed by white-sand beaches and coconut palms, sitting in a turquoise sea: the Gilis are a vision of paradise."

Aerial view of the Gili Islands: Gili Trawangan, Gili Meno, and Gili Air (from left to right)

Reunited

Hester fixing loose bike chains in Bali

The beauty of Air

Sunset at Air

Meno's baby turtle sanctuary

The Meno tranquility

My co-volunteers

There's only so much information that you can find on pages that try to uncover the top hidden places in Bali. And even though such web pages often mention the hidden canyon in Sukawati, they don't tell you how hard a hike it is. Nor will they say it takes over three hours and requires preparation upfront.

*

We have traveled to many places in Bali already, but there are still many natural wonders that are worth visiting. And as usual, I'm the tour planner for today. My original plan was to go visit six beautiful places in central Bali, but after considering the time frame (i.e., one day), I became less optimistic. We reduced it to four, and together with Kezia (an Indonesian volunteer) and two Irish girls Lianne and Laura (my co-teacher), we were mentally ready for the trip.

What we didn't know, however, was how little prepared for the trip we were. Our first stop was a hidden canyon in Sukawati, an amazingly well-kept secret with an adequate name, and even though I read that sometimes you might need to go through waist-deep water, I didn't think the hike would be so wild. And thus we just took our bikinis, beach clothing, flip flops, cameras, and one dry bag for the whole group, thinking we would be fine as is. 

As we arrive at the entrance gate and purchase ridiculously cheap tickets, they tell us to leave our flip-flops there, as it can get slippery down there. I didn't think much of it and expected the path through the canyon to be suitable for bare feet. We also leave our clothing behind and start our hike in bikinis and one bag. We descend a long concrete staircase and I'm being hopeful that the whole way may be paved similarly. But as soon as the staircase ends, we find ourselves in true wilderness, with steep cliffs around us, rocky shores, and a wild river with strong currents. The water is muddy and wild because of the raging thunderstorm the previous day, and even though we didn't even start the hike properly, it already comes to our thighs.

We haven't even started the hike properly, and it's already quite painful. We climb the slippery rocks, plow through mud and walk on small itchy grains of sand - and, primarily, conquer the strong stream in the river through sharp rocks at the bottom. "Dana, what have you gotten us into?" I hear one of the girls say laughingly behind me, and I am sure she is trying to mask the slight anger and fear in her voice.

Painful steps aside, the hike itself is not the easiest. Already right at the beginning, I managed to get myself into a little accident. As I try to climb a big rock surrounded by the river, I feel my hands slipping and I slide off the rock, falling right into the brown river in an unsightly water bomb. The guide hurried to rescue me, but I was just laughing at my clumsiness and was already climbing from the water like nothing happened.

Regaining my peace at Canyon II

The Sukawati canyon is divided into three parts - simply called Canyon I, II, and III - and we get to the first one in less than an hour. It's not only time to take pictures, but to make a decision whether to climb the hill and end our tour on the viewing point or to continue to Canyons II and III and thus make the whole loop. Still enthusiastic, the group unanimously decides to go forward.

A little moment of relief after reaching the Canyon II

After we take three million photos on all our phones and cameras, the guide tells us that Canyon III is just around the corner. Tired from the hike already, the whole group cheers – an enthusiasm that disappeared soon after. 

We are standing in front of a two-meter tall cliff on one of the river banks. It has a very smooth surface, with little to no cracks to hold on to when you're climbing. Like it is no big deal, the guide makes three quick movements and is already at the top. 

"No way, I'm not doing this," I say to the guide, who's just laughing. Questioning my whole life at this point, I tried to catch the last straw. "Can we go through there instead?" I pointed to the little stream of the river which surrounds the cliff and leads to the Canyon III. "He says it's too deep and the current is strong," Kezia, our hero for today, who has been translating the whole time, says with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

The guide keeps extending his arm down towards me with a smile. The cliff is so high that I can barely reach his hand, and I am sure there is no way I can climb it. But at this point there is nothing else to do, so I take his hand, trying to cooperate, but deep down knowing I will never manage to climb this cliff. I put my feet to the places he tells me and I am still unsure where to hold on to with my other hand. I feel him pull me a little and I expect him to fall down from up there due to the weight of my body, but I don't even realize how and I am standing next to him on the cliff.

I was totally confused about what just happened. Just to paint an image, our guide, like most of Indonesian men, was really short and generally quite skinny.  But he got some real power in his as I watched him pull up all of the other girls without any real help from the bunch. At this point, the fear I had seemed to have been for nothing; the scariest moment of the hike turned out to be pretty painless.

And so we got to the last canyon. We left the wild river behind and got into a rainforest with a nice forest trail. Finally, the path is soft, and the wet soil of the rain forest soothes our feet. As we progress, long vertical tree roots extending down from a couple-meters-tall hill appear before us. The guide starts climbing the roots and we realize it's a fun picture spot, and take turns jumping on the roots like monkeys. When we thought that the difficult part of the tour is over, we were in for another surprise.

So far, we have always had to walk in the shadows of the canyon or the forest, but in order to get back to our car, we had to walk through some fields with a little concrete path in the middle of them. It was 1 pm, the sun was shining strongly, and remember – we were barefoot. Walking on the field itself was not much better, since not only was the soil almost just as hot as the concrete but stepping on the dead roots was extremely painful too.

Walking on the concrete was the most painful thing of the day. Our bare feet felt more and more burnt with each step, and as we screamed in pain, our guide just laughed at us. Kezia, the Indonesian volunteer, who we thought might also be used to the heat and feel no discomfort just like the guide, told to us annoyingly that she, too, is a "city girl" just like us, and joined the screams.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ooooouuuuch..."

We screamed continuously. Each one of us became very nifty and tried to alleviate their pain differently. I tried to carefully walk on the soil; Lianne was trying to make shoes from leaves; and Kezia decided to run on the hot concrete as if her life was at stake – only to jump to the field every now and then to cool her feet in the tiny shadow cast by the extremely sparse almost-withered plants. 

Finally, we arrived at the parking lot, sat down and lifted our feet in relief. We ordered fresh coconuts as a reward, while our guide was getting our shoes from the entrance where we left them. The feeling of being seated with our feet off the floor was absolutely priceless.

* 

It was already 3 pm when we arrived at the second spot – so much for my impeccable planning. Tekad Cepung waterfall is a rather unique place. The waterfall is located inside a tall cave with shallow water. We again had to climb down some big rocks, but after our adventure this morning – and with our shoes on this time – the hike felt really easy. And despite my quixotic battle with little drops constantly being sprayed on my camera from the waterfall, I managed to take some nice shots.

Tekad Cepung Waterfall

The rest of the day could very well be described as a fiasco. We never found the green cliffs in the waterfall's vicinity that I had originally planned on our itinerary. The beautiful rainbow canyon that I saw online had been closed already for several years. And the waterfall that we planned to see as the last point of the trip didn't exist anymore, as the government had reversed the flow of the water for sewage regulation, as explained by a local man from the area. So when we finally managed to find the entrance to the waterfall (after first being lost and worrying about the sun going down), climbed all the way down, and searched for it there, we could only laugh at our 'luck'.

Padangbai

I woke up in the middle of the night to a strange, extremely loud sound. It is completely dark and otherwise quiet, and this sound is piercing through the air like in a nightmare. I have no idea what it is, but it definitely sounds like an animal. At this state, half-sleeping and terrified, my brilliant mind thinks of the worst scenarios and petrified to the bone, I lie in my bed without a single movement, barely breathing, so that the animal won't attack me. I want to record the sound so that I could later find out what it was, but I'm too scared the light from my phone's display might attract the monster. So I just lie there, staring into the darkness, praying for the best.

I have the worst nightmares. I'm dreaming that the animal in my room is a monkey and it's attacking me. I wake up again to that terrible sound, but now it's coming from a different place. I fall asleep again, and this time I dream that the animal is a snake, and the sound is coming from an animal it has killed and is now processing. I soon awoke again to that creepy sound...

✦

I planned to have a nice quiet weekend at the beach. I felt like after several weeks in Ubud, I needed to relax, unhindered by any group plans and any complaints. Padangbai sounded like a perfect idea, and I booked a hostel in there without hesitation.

But as it is quite common in here at VP Bali, where one person goes, everyone goes. And thus I was told that also Haley is going there, Maiju, Anna, and Viivi are going there, Lee is going there, and Kelly and Fiona are going there – all separately. It made sense for me to then join Anna on the scooter, and on Friday morning, after my terrible night, we set off and I am looking forward to that nice quiet evening. Without any geckos this time hopefully, as it turned out that the monster attacking me was nothing worse than a bigger-than-average gecko, basically a harmless animal.

Balinese gecko, our new house pet

Driving a scooter is considerably cheaper and perhaps also more fun but it's also extremely dangerous. I'm no stranger to Anna's driving, yet I am unpleasantly surprised to see that she's driving 90 km/hour on the highway. Trying not to think of all the possible ways of how we could die, I try to shift my attention to the strong wind that is whipping my bare shins and making my eyes tear even though I wear sunglasses. The drive takes over 1.5 hours, and every time we see a policeman, we are praying not to be stopped.

We arrive at Padangbai and I leave the girls and head to my hostel. My first experience being in a dorm room – and already with nine other people of both genders. Coincidentally (or not), most of them of Dutch origin. I go to the Blue Lagoon on Friday and I see an absolutely beautiful white sand beach with not so many tourists. The waves are quite strong though, and the rocky bottom and shallow waters make it impossible to swim. You go into the water and are immediately swung back to the shore by a wave.

Blue Lagoon beach

I rented snorkeling equipment but in the end, I didn't use it. At first, I was scared to leave my camera and phone on the beach while I snorkel, and later, when the girls came, the waves were much, much higher, making it impossible and very dangerous to snorkel. But I did go into the water for a little bit, and it was nice to finally swim.

Later I decided to go see some nearby temples, but not only were they underwhelming compared to the Balinese beauties I was used to at this point, but also I haven't dressed appropriately for visitations to religious shrines and felt very uncomfortable walking around in my shorts.

I woke up early on Saturday and decided to go to the other beach, Bias Tugel, also called the Secret beach. The way there is through some hills and green scenery along the way. In the end, I met a confused tourist on a scooter who was asking me where the beach was. "Just look at the signs," I pointed right behind him, where there was a huge sign saying 'Bias Tugel' with an arrow pointing to the left. He ended up taking me on his scooter and I didn't have to walk the hills anymore.

Bias Tugel beach in the morning

Luis turned out to be a really nice guy. We put our things together, rented sunbeds next to each other, and talked pretty much the whole time. We went swimming at the same time, we had coffee and then lunch together, and we also left the beach together. He was taking me to Candidasa, a nearby town where I wanted to go for a long time, and where he currently resided.

Wavy Bias Tugel in the afternoon

Currently as a self-described "PA to a rich guy," Luis had all the freedom in the world, only arranging small things that didn't take up much of his time and yet helped him earn an admirable living. He retired from his very well-paid job in Spain and decided to come live in Bali for several months. You could very well see it. He lived in a beautiful house with a big pool and a separate pool house, which seemed like a dream for a budget backpacker like me.

Luis' pool

Candidasa beach

As we were sitting at a nice beachfront resort and drinking smoothies, he told me about his attempts at getting closer to the locals. He made one friend so far. One time he wanted to get beer for cheap, but the tourists never get the local price. He asked a local guy chilling on the beach with his friends to get him some beers, and gave him 100,000 rupiahs. He didn't have any assurance that the guy wouldn't just run away with the money – he could only have trust in him.

And so the guy came a little later with a big six-pack of beers, and Luis shared all of those with them. And so was set the tone of their friendship – them having fun together on the basis that Luis buys something for him. The same has been my experience with the Balinese, and of any other foreigner that I knew in this land.

The Balinese, of course, don't have so much money, and even the young people have a very different life here than the non-Balinese. And all the things that we see as fun here (going out, sightseeing, traveling, eating at a nice restaurant) are for most of our peers here unattainable.

Beach resort in Candidasa

Having drinks at the beach

Luis then drove me home at the end of the day, and I gave him my number so that we can stay in touch and I meet him for ring shopping in Ubud, as he was soon to propose to his girlfriend. But being so 'international' recently, with changing numbers every couple of months, I gave him my old number. And even though I knew where he lived, I couldn't figure out his contact information. And so the ring shopping morning never happened.

But after these two days I felt like I was done with Padang Bai, and as Nouschka had a free day on Sunday, we decided to meet in Kuta. I woke up early on Sunday and made my way to the shuttle minivan waiting for me in the morning. And luckily for me, I was the only one in it.

What that meant, however, was that I was in Kuta much earlier than what I expected, and I still had a good half hour before Nouschka – who was, of course, late because of the confused taxi driver – would arrive.

Kuta beach

I walked the good 15 minutes to the beach from the drop-off place and found that the beach is not exactly what I would usually see as a beach. The Kuta beach was a coast kilometers-long and tens-of-meters-wide, with shallow water as far as you can see, as I later found out. The sea had a really shallow entrance and tons of little waves approaching the shore from far. You could basically swim or chill in the water for 10 seconds and then turn your back to the sea in anticipation of a wave. Sometimes the wave was so strong that you had to dive under it not to be completely washed away.

Kuta is primarily a touristic place for people who prefer parties and surfing and don't mind the unbearably bad beach for swimming, crowds, crime, drunk tourists, and expensive food or accommodation. It's a truly weird place. It's filled with buffed macho (most likely Australian) men on holiday, half-naked girls looking for a holiday flirt, and quite good looking local surfer instructors who are more than happy to supply that temporary love.

The place itself is one big conjunction of souvenir stalls with ridiculously overpriced things, Western fast food chains, and party venues on every corner. It also feels like Kuta has no rules. On one street you'll find two currency exchange shops only three meters apart offering the best and the worst exchange rate I've seen in the whole of Bali – 15,099 and 14,000 rupiahs for a euro.

Bali has never felt as unfamiliar as it did in Kuta. All the wonders that it has to offer and that are advertised everywhere – white sand beaches, relaxing atmosphere, beautiful scenery, and nice people, or in one word, paradise – have been completely lost in the midst of the tourist occupation.

The crowds in Kuta immediately struck me as a different species that I can't really understand. Flocks of tourists strolling on the beach, asking me if they can take a selfie with me – I guess because I was so white and European – didn't bother me at first. After all, I take pictures of the locals too. But after being stopped by a group of males, then a group of Asian middle-aged ladies, and finally a group of teenager Indonesian girls (all happening right after each other), I felt like a monkey in a zoo and was pretty much done with it. Apparently, in Kuta, it is normal to make a person feel like they are an attraction, and after they refuse to take a selfie with you, it's okay to start laughing hysterically at them.

And as I'm done with the random groups of Asians asking for a selfie, I sit down next to a guy with a portable refrigerator and buy a Sprite, after bargaining the price down from ridiculous 20,000 rupiahs (1,4 euros) for a small bottle. And immediately he starts hitting on me and telling me all sorts of weird things, and I'm praying for Nouschka to rescue me soon. As I stand up and tell him she's here, he follows me conspicuously to see whether I was really meeting someone and not lying to him. And so I meet with Nous, and can finally forget this abomination of a place.

Gado Gado

Our day was finally really nice, first having a really good coffee at the shopping mall with all the western clothing brands you can imagine – of course, priced correspondingly – and then having quite an expensive lunch (compared to those that I'm used to in Ubud). But all in all, we had a gezellig time together.