mlchad147
- Mar 22
- 6 min read

March 20, 2024–Bali, Indonesia

While most Americans have heard of Bali, we probably can’t pick it out on a map, and our knowledge seldom goes beyond its popularity with tourists, its tropical climate, and maybe something we saw on the news about nearby volcanoes. That was the case with me, anyway, at least until I started preparing for this voyage. Bali, it turns out, is all of that, but it’s much, much more, some of it quite surprising.

Similar in size and population to its next door neighbor, Lombok, it might be difficult at first blush to distinguish them, but there are two differences that quickly jump out. First, as I pointed out in yesterday’s post, Lombok natives speak Sasak, while Balinese speak, well, Balinese. Not exactly earthshaking when you consider that all Indonesians also speak Bahasa, the national language. The other difference, though, is a big one that sets Bali apart not just from Lombok but also from the rest of Indonesia. It’s religion.

Almost ninety percent of Indonesians are Muslims, with Christians trailing at around ten percent, and Buddhists less than one percent of the population. In Bali, however, those numbers are turned on their head, with Buddhists making up more than ninety percent of the island’s 4.5 million inhabitants. Walk down any street in Bali and that difference is immediately apparent to even the most casual observer. If Lombok is the island of a thousand mosques, Bali is the island of countless thousands of Buddhist temples. This is because in addition to the expected community temples, most Balinese Buddhists also have small temples at their homes, usually located at the front of the house along the street. While no two are alike, homeowner temples generally include shrines, and often stone guardians known as bedogol on either side of the entrance. These guardians are in the form of fearsome creatures of the owner’s choosing, and are intended to keep negative energies from entering. I’ll show some examples in the photos below.

One thing Lombok and Bali do have in common is very heavy traffic, with lots of motorbikes and aggressive driving. I won’t go into detail since I discussed the subject in yesterday’s post, but I’ll just say that we decided it was best to enjoy the views from the side windows of our bus and avoid looking out the front windshield.

Our ship docked at 6:30 am, in Benoa, on the southern tip of the island, and our day started an hour later with a drive northward to one of the island’s most important Buddhist temples, Pura Kehen, which dates back at least to the thirteenth century and was the royal temple of the Bangli Kingdom. The temple consists of a large open air complex, with two central features—a gigantic 700 year old banyan tree and an eleven-tiered meru tower. The tree is considered sacred and has a monk’s cell high up in the branches. We were told there’s a bell up there too, but I couldn’t find it. The tower is the most important shrine in the temple, and is dedicated to the God that protects the temple. It really is an amazing place, and I truly enjoyed walking around the grounds.

Continuing northward, it was a short drive to one of Bali’s top tourist attractions, and rightfully so. As it was told to us, Penglipuran Village is home to the descendants of 92 workers who were camped there while they constructed a palace for the Bangli king. The village is a classic example of a traditional Balinese Buddhist community, with stone temples lining the single street in front of the homes. The population now stands at around 700, and most of the families have opened small shops in their homes to supplement their incomes from all the tourists. While the town is admittedly touristy (you need a ticket to enter), it is absolutely genuine and well worth visiting.

On to the north we went, most of the way up Bali’s interior to Mt. Batur, an active volcano that created a gigantic caldera when it blew its top 20,000 years ago. There have been many smaller eruptions since, but none large enough to discourage development in and around the crater. Our excursion took us to the rim of the caldera, where we had a spectacular view while eating lunch on the deck of the appropriately named Lakeview Restaurant and Bar. And there’s a lot to view inside the caldera, make no mistake. The southeast corner, covering maybe a sixth of the caldera, is filled by a large lake that supports many recreational activities, including fishing, and even a fish farm. Sounds crazy for the caldera of an active volcano, but there are something like fifteen villages down there too, supporting homes, businesses, agriculture, and even mining of the lava rocks that resulted from the most recent eruption several years ago. Looming over it all is Mt. Batur, the growing offspring of the big bang that created the caldera all those centuries ago. The mountain has three craters of its own that produce the occasional ongoing eruptions. Spectacular place to visit, but it goes without saying that I wouldn’t want to live there.

After lunch we gradually made our way back south to Benoa, with stops along the way at an artist cooperative and a large shop selling batik cloth and garments. Batik is an Indonesian technique for dying cloth involving the use of wax. It’s all over my head, but several passengers on our bus were quite excited about it, and purchases were made.

For me, just as was the case yesterday in Lombok, the main attraction was just watching out the bus window as we headed back. The Balinese love their monuments, especially big ones, and there were lots of them dotting the road, along with archways. I’ve never been anywhere where there were so many elaborate archways over the road announcing the motorist’s arrival at a community or denoting the significance of the area. Unfortunately they were difficult to photograph from the bus windows. There were also penjor bamboo poles lining the roads in front of homes, and I’ll describe them in more detail below in the caption of a photograph showing them in Penglipuran Village.

We finally arrived back at the ship around 4:30 pm, hot, sweaty and dog tired after nine hours exploring Bali, but thrilled by the experience. My overall assessment is that it’s a remarkable place to visit and soak up a culture so different from our own. If that’s your goal, this is a bucket list destination. On the other hand, if you’re looking for a tropical beach getaway, this probably isn’t it. You’ll certainly get the tropical heat and humidity, and I’ve heard there are lovely black and white sand beaches, but you’ll also get traffic, noise, and people, lots and lots of people. I certainly got what I came for, that and much more, and I’m the richer for it.

As I write this we’re steaming north in the Celebes Sea, with Borneo to our west, on our way to the Philippines. Our itinerary includes stops in Manila on the 24th and Subic Bay on the 25th, and I’m really looking forward to them. Some of my Bradford County friends may remember that for many of my years as a state representative I had a district aide in my Towanda office who was a native of the Philippines, and I’m excited to visit her country of birth.

As always I’ll be back with a full report, assuming that I can tear myself away from watching the NCAA basketball tournament between port stops. Until then, sampai jumpa, sampi ketemu (goodbye in Balinese).

Our fabulous tour guide. He even sang traditional Balinese songs to us. Oh, and look at all the traffic in front of our bus.

At the Pura Kehen Temple. Note the guardians at the gate and the eleven-tiered meru tower in the background.

The 700 year old banyan tree at the temple is considered sacred. Above is the monk’s cell that was built into the tree.

The meru tower, the most important shrine in the temple.

Row of shrines at the temple.

On the way to our next stop. The roadside was endlessly interesting.

Entrance to the traditional village of Penglipuran. The Balinese love archways.

The single street of Penglipuran. Note the penjor bamboo poles in front of all the houses. During festivals households erect these poles, which are decorated with coconut leaf ornaments. Each day the homeowners place small offerings in the baskets, which are generally at mailbox height, as a gesture of gratitude to nature for the fruits of the earth.