After my Balinese bathroom encounter, and a pair of wet socks, it is now even later. I open the windows get into bed and stare at the ceiling. Sigh, jet lag. I hate jet lag. I manage to get a small amount of sleep before morning comes and sleep becomes impossible.

Morning in the jungle is an elaborate and noisy affair. You think the city is noisy, try 6:30am in the jungle. It starts out with the big tokey geckos barking at the top of their little lungs, Ge Kooo - Ge Kooo (One of the tourists thought they were birds!) and then the million and one prized fighting cocks start joining in. Birds and insects of every variety add their two bits and pretty soon it sounds like a large pet store at feeding time.

Reluctantly, I give in to the morning. I sit up on the porch and have some tea. Then I go for a walk to look at Ubud. It is too early, no one is really up yet. I start to walk down the street towards the monkey forest. I begin to see shades of the old Bali. There are many small shops along narrow streets. Tile sidewalks with notches for the driveways that are so steep that you slip if you plant your feet wrong. Holes in the sidewalk that reach out and grab the unsuspecting foot, pulling the inattentive (or the blind) into the muck and filth below. Rows of motorcycles parked along the road. Bemo drivers starting to appear. "Transport!" "Transport!" The call of the state bird of Bali. "Tidak Terimah Kasih, Jalan Jalan, I want to walk" I say. "Maybe tomorrow? I give you good price. Morning price." "OK Maybe tomorrow" (Some things don’t change). After several slemat pagi’s (which means Blessings on you this morning and is said in kind of a singing fashion. The Balinese seem to bless just about everything) and a couple of Apa kabar’s (What’s the News?) Biak/Bagus (News is good) and smiles from attractive ladies, I come to the Monkey Forest.

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Text and Photography Copyright © 1999 Blake Holliday. All rights reserved.