I wake up to the bus conductor yelling where we are. “Ubud! Ubud!” he wails, as the passengers get off the bus. During the early afternoon drive to this bucolic town in the middle of Bali, all image of paradise I had in my mind of this Indonesian island were quickly replaced by grinding traffic and unremarkable city structures, and before I knew it, I was asleep. After yesterday's trip to Mount Bromo, I backtracked in the afternoon to Surabaya, where I took a short flight to Bali, the last leg of my (ill-advised) whirlwind trip.
I had actually scheduled an early morning walking tour that would have taken me across Ubud's rice fields, local villages, and possibly a Balinese dance school. But during my last night in Yogyakarta, a blackout hit the city, which prevented me from using my credit card and forced me to pay the guest house in cash. As a result, I’m now left with only a few thousand rupiahs. I had to cancel the walking tour (because it was payable only in cash), and I was in fact resigned to the idea of spending my last days of the trip just hanging around the beach in Kuta.
But curiosity and Mark Twain’s “you’ll regret more the things you didn’t do” aphorism won over me, and after tweaking my budget, I booked a ride to Ubud. Even if it was the overcrowded site I fear it would be, I thought I could surely find an intimate corner somewhere and claim it as my personal space. I managed to get a discount on a round-trip bus fare that would take me to the town after lunch and return to Kuta in the evening. I also decided to skip dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast to compensate.
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