My time in Bali was spiritual – to say the least.
For all you weary travelers, I recommend you come stay awhile and rejuvenate in Ubud.
I’m not one for nightclubs or endless discotheques, so the few days I spent in Kuta felt like internment.
That’s not to say that Kuta didn’t have it’s charms, but my heart shudders at the thought of travelling nearly 8,000 miles to spend my days in the likes of Zara, WHSmith and M&S. To a seasoned traveller like myself, globalisation is starting to feel like a curse.
A lot of places in SE Asia are starting to look like a run-of-the-mill English high street.
That’s a topic for another conversation.
Yet, in all my self-righteous despair, Ubud, with it’s yoga retreats, rice fields and endless temples felt like a step back in time; or at least a step away from mindless commercialism.
Sure, there’s a serious traffic and congestion problem, but the atmosphere felt so strange and different, I found myself marveling at the simplest things.
Surrounded by rice paddies on every side, the rain felt like a life-giving ritual.