Paradise Found - Friday June 20th.

Paradise Found - Friday June 20th.

I wake to the sounds of roosters and ducks, rise and excitedly explore our villa in the soft early morning light. It is just as lovely by daylight as it was in last nights moonlight. We are surrounded by coconut palms, banana trees and rice paddies and I take dozens of photos. A thatched cafe where our breakfast will be served is one rice paddy away and Art and I walk the narrow path between the rice fields towards our morning coffee. Ducks wade in the stagnant water, slurping and quacking happily. We order Bali coffee, banana pancakes, fresh fruit and a cheese omlet. The Bali coffee is too thick and grainy for my tastes, but the banana pancakes are amazing. Returning to our bungalow, I wake John and he too is mesmerized by the magic of it all.

We meet up with Tabra late in the morning, walking along the dirt path connecting the road to our bungalow. Wyanne drives us into Ubud and we wander together exploring the shops that Tabra recommends. We need to cross over a gorge to the other side of town. Our choice is between a suspension bridge missing many of it's boards where we can see down to the river below or the cement bridge where the cars pass over. Tabra refuses the wooden bridge and crosses alongside of the cars on a narrow cracked sidewalk. Our choice seems to be falling to our death into the gorge or being maimed by automobile. Surviving, we proceed onto lunch at a "hippy-arty" cafe with wonderful, inexpensive food. The furrow in Arts brow is gone and he relaxes into the spirit of the place.

Tabra makes massage appointments for us all at her favorite spa. This will be John's first massage and although we all assume the spa is reputable, we reserve a shared room for Art and John. I am slightly nervous, but the experience is easy and I relax into the therapeutic hands of the young woman masseuse. She knowingly kneads away the tension of the past several days of travel. An hour and a half later, we are all relaxed and smelling of sweet oils. We drink ginger tea together, and pay our bills. Each 1 1/2 hour massage is $12.00.

We have a lovely dinner at Nomads, an open air cafe set on a raised terrace overlooking the main street in Ubud. We order an elaborate tapas appetizer plate to share, and two dozen taste treats are served to us on small leaves arranged on two large platters. We are slightly hurried but indulge in chocolate moose cake and banana creme brule before leaving to attend a Kechak dance. Wyanne drives us to the Keckak on the outskirts of town and we climb a long steep path bordered by impressive Balinese sculpture, theatrically lit in the dark. The setting has the feel of an Indiana Jones movie and a sense of excitement rises up in me. Classical dances are not always my favorite, but the Kechak is unlike any I have ever seen. We sit in an open air theatre and over 50 male performers gather in a circle, a blazing candle-lit alter in their center. The rhythmic chanting begins, a mix of guttural sounds and repetitive melody. The performers vibrate their hands and bodies, dark hand-prints silhouettes black against the blazing alter. We are mesmerized and catch the rhythm and spirit of the pagan dance. I ask what the dance signifies and Tabra tells me the dance is about good versus evil. At times the chanting is soft and then rises to a frenetic crescendo, all the time keeping the rhythm with the underling melody. A fire walk follows and two dancers, holding hairless brooms, spread glowing coals in a circle on the dirt. A third dancer, seemingly in a trance, struts rooster like through the coals, kicking up blazing sparks, brilliant red against the dark night setting. Repeatedly, the two assistant dancers sweep the coals back into a small circle and repeatedly the fire dancer struts through the coals sparks flying high.