It’s my first time in Bali.

In fact, it’s my first time in Southeast Asia.
I’m exhausted from the 36 hours of travel it took to get here, I’m excited and super curious to see what this trip has in store for me.
I’ve survived the suffocating heat of Doha Qatar, my knees are still aching from the two 12hour flights it took to get here, but I’m here.

There are aspects of traveling that remind me it’s not my first time exploring a different country, continent, or culture.

I’ve learned over the past year and a half how to plan money-wise, what to expect from the area that I’ll be staying, if I can drink the water, if the locals bargain and how to get a good deal.
Regardless of how many places I’ve been, without fail, every single time I venture to a new place I get a burst of adrenaline, of intense curiosity.

I become an avid spectator of all the new sights, smells, sounds, and faces. This is why I love to travel.

If my past travels serve as any indication, I’m probably going to discover a new favorite food, become transfixed with an animal I’ve never before seen face to face, take on a physical challenge (I know this one is in store, surfing will be my new morning routine) and I hope to make a few new friends.

The first thing that I noticed upon leaving Ngurah Rai airport was the traffic.

Not so much the amount of it, more like how it moves.
It’s like liquid if you can imagine it.
No stop signs, no strict merging rules, the few stoplights that do exist produce traffic jams accompanied with a chorus of beeps that remind me of the RoadRunner. And the motorbikes. Holy cow, all of the motorbikes.
The lane markings are really more like loose suggestions and the sidewalks are fair game if you’re on a bike and have good enough timing.

My next dose of this new culture presented with the statues of the Hindu gods and the many MANY sacrifices laid in front of nearly every store front and household, each equipped with flowers, decorations and burning incense. I’ve got to admit that I know very little about the Hindu religion and I’m sure I’ll learn more as this trip goes on.

I’m staying in the tourist-packed city of Kuta, in a simple AirBnB rental that surprisingly lives up to the claim of being in a quiet neighborhood hidden in the noise polluted city.

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The first Bali road trip took me to Uluwatu, the land of all the “serious” surfers.

This place is gorgeous. As you drive past Padang you’ll get a glimpse at the cliffs and the turquoise waves down below.
If you make it down to Uluwatu you’ll find yourself surrounded by surf shops and restaurants filled with a couple different types of people.

You’ve got the gnarly surfers who walk around with bad reef rash and are telling animated stories about how it happened.
There’s the young non-surfing crowd, Chinese, French, British, maybe some Americans who enjoy a beer while watching the sunset and head into the many dance clubs that line the cliffside.

(Sunsets aren't too shabby here)
And then there’s the newlyweds who choose the beach for their romantic photos. Nearly every single time they’ll venture out onto the shallow reef in their nice wedding attire only to be surprised by the rising tide and waves. This does however present a moment for the groom to save the day by rescuing his new bride from falling in the water- if he’s quick.

Since the drive to Uluwatu took a whopping hour or more, my derriere needed a days rest before my next trip to Ubud.

Ubud is where I found the lovely rice terraces.

Ubud is yet another tourist destination for a couple reasons, the serene rice terraces are one, but the monkey forest is perhaps a bigger reason.

The cost is free to walk along the rice terraces and on the path you’ll find many restaurants and little stands lined up for the locals to sell you their artwork or jewelry. I was lucky enough to venture far enough along the path to meet a local man who convinced me to make a left turn and find the river down in the valley. “The water is full of energy, good for meditation, no people, very nice.” That was enough for me.
He struck me as being almost too nice and accommodating, that’s when I realized that he was working it for a tip. I caved in and allowed him to lead me down what seemed like an endless path down, with slippery, muddy steps. We walked past a lone bull chained to small structure with a roof and a giant bamboo plant. After a few close calls of me nearly losing my footing, I finally saw the river. He let me explore it on my own after I ensured him that I could find my way back when I was done. After huffing and puffing back up the steep, slippery hill I gladly purchased a fresh coconut from my new impromptu tour guide. Well played my friend, well played.

The Sacred Monkey Forest.

I don’t know what it is that freaks me out about monkeys.

Maybe it’s that their hands are eerily similar to ours, maybe it’s because they have four of them, maybe it’s because their eyes are so active and engaging I feel like they could speak to me but choose not to.
Regardless of my irrational (or rational) fear, I’m game to go into the forest of monkeys.

Before I even officially enter the forest, in the parking lot, there is a couple of female tourists who are carrying a white plastic grocery, the kind of bag they warn you not to carry in that area. I hear a few loud shrieks and turn around just in time to see one monkey running like a bat out of hell carrying a brand new shiny bag of potato chips and another monkey scavenging inside the grocery bag to find more goodies that tickle his fancy. All while the two women are clearly having a hard time watching the monkeys get at their goods while the locals continue to warn them not to challenge the monkeys.

So in the forest, it doesn't take too long until you come across a lady that sells bunches of bananas that you can feed the monkeys. I know this is what I'll be doing eventually on this day, but I'm just not quite there yet.
After walking the length of all the available trails and being somewhat disappointed that they didn't extend as far as I'd thought, I found myself facing the facts: It is now time for the feeding to commence.
I stake out the area that I'll be luring a monkey onto my shoulder with that yellow curved fruit that they like so much and I'm praying so hard that the big guy not too far away gets a whiff of what I'm offering.
To my relief a nice medium sized fellow approaches and decides I'll be the one that he'll scale for his treat. After nearly flashing the crowd thanks to his tiny hand placement he feels actually quite comfortable perched on my shoulder. I can distinctly hear him munching on his fruit and he leans on my head a bit as I feel him relax. I'm now cuddling with a monkey that moments before I thought could be clawing my eyes out. How fast things can change!

After he finishes his treat he dismounts and I'm left feeling a bit used.
Not two minutes later, I find a water fountain to wash my hands and a smaller furry friend hops on up to take a few chugs. I gladly indulge the thirsty little guy and he reciprocates by ever so slowly and gently and sweetly placing his tiny little hand on mine, and does the cutest squeak sound I think I've ever heard.

Having tackled one of my fears I felt pretty accomplished and hungry so that ended the day in the monkey forest for me.

Next up: Mastering the Skill of Riding Waves