It turned out to be none of these and in fact is a (to us) very familiar toasted sandwich, made in the kind of sandwich press that seals the edges of the bread and forms two triangular pockets. I went with a coconut pancake, which ironically turned out to be a variation on the usual thin crêpe or soft and spongy American versions, and was instead stuffed somehow with a fresh coconut and palm sugar mixture. Nom nom.
Coconut pancake |
After this, we were picked up for a half-day guided trekking by Made (no, not that Made, another one). We guided ourselves through the local countryside yesterday, by way of two waterfalls, principally using local roads. Today we hoped to be taken through some more out-of-the-way paths. This was certainly the case, as we were dropped off at the top of hill leading down to the shores of Lake Buyan with our guide, Wayan, who promptly disappeared into the long grass and trees, beckoning us to follow.
Lake Buyan |
Our route led straight down the side of the hill and was less a path and more of a rut, furrowed into the earth by the passing of people from the village on the lake, and wide enough only for one foot to go directly in line with the back foot. A foot wrong meant treading into vegetation with no solid base, followed by a journey down the hillside the quick way. The way was slippery from the rain that fell here last night and we were glad of our walking boots, although Wayan gaily tripped down in nothing more than plimsolls.
Gear |
In fact, Wayan told us he used to live near the lake as a boy and that this was his usual route to school. It took him two hours in each direction. Nowadays the children ride motorbikes to school and can be seen tearing away in uniform at the end of the day, barely tall enough to reach the handlebars in some cases.
Our trek took us through dense jungle, far different from the small roads and paths we had followed yesterday. In here, we would have been lost in seconds without a guide. Wayan breezily pointed out plants and trees, noting the ones to avoid touching. Indicating an innocuous-seeming round-leafed plant, indistinguishable from many others and not at all prickly, he said, "is nettle; if touch, itching for a week". I became rather more cautious of brushing through the undergrowth after that.
Lethal. Apparently |
Eventually, we emerged at the water's edge on Lake Tamblingan, aside a temple whose tower, made of corrugated sheet metal rather than the usual black palm tree hair, had rusted. After a little while, a figure appeared on the lake, rowing what looked like a diminutive catamaran.
Lake Tamblingan |
Having reached shore, it appeared to be a boat fashioned from two dug-out canoes, linked by three planks of wood. "Women do the rowing," said our guide, "the men are busy cock fighting". Nevertheless, he and I, as well as the women, all took up an oar and we all four of us rowed to the far side of the lake, under the shadow of Gunung Lesong.
Rowing |
Alighting at a small fishing village, where a group of young students from Denpasar had set up colourful tents and were getting a taste of country life, we continued our trek.
Temple and Mt. Lesong |
Out of the jungle, the area is still verdant and every spare inch is used to grow crops or else is full of fields of blue hortensia used in Balinese ceremonies.
Blue hortensia |
Back into the jungle we went, where the forest floor was covered in clumps of bright pinkish-red wild ginger flower. Sadly this is one of the members of the ginger family that is not edible.
Wild ginger flower |
Close to the end of our trail, we heard a screeching sound. Our guide thought it was a monkey, but as we neared the source of the sound, it revealed itself to be a mewling litter of puppies. Six small multicoloured dogs writhed over one another on a bed of grass by the side of the road. We assumed the mother was away hunting, but our guide informed us that they had most likely been abandoned. "People only want male dogs," he told us, "these are all female". We stood helplessly, asking whether there was anything we could do, anywhere they could be taken. Was there an animal sanctuary on the island? "There is nothing we can do; they will die here," he said matter-of-factly. He didn't lack compassion, but he was realistic about their chances of survival without a mother's milk. K, especially, was full of righteous indignation, as this treatment of animals - not spaying pets and, when inevitably they become pregnant, ditching them or the resulting offspring - is something we have seen again and again in SE Asia. In a culture in which animal sacrifice is routinely practised, surely, I wondered, these puppies could have been humanely destroyed rather than left to starve slowly to an undignified death. I mused that this is probably low on the list of most countries' priorities. Once they have established sound sanitation, good schools, a health service, and an uncorrupted political system, then perhaps they will get round to animal cruelty.
It was a sad end to an otherwise wonderful walk through quiet countryside, full of the thrum of nature and not engines. We arrived at the top of a hill overlooking Lake Tamblingan, where the organisers of the walk have a restaurant, Terrasse du Lac, and where lunch awaited us.
Lumpia and coconut soup |
With a front-seat view of nature, we enjoyed appetisers of lumpia (spring rolls), which were full of vegetables and had a slightly European twist of tasting as though they used filo pastry. K had a coconut-based vegetable soup that was similarly replete with local produce.
Aubergine parmigiana |
The vegetarian menu was more western than Indonesian, offering only gado gado as a concession to local dishes, but neither of us could resist a melanzane parmigiana. Soft-baked slices of purple aubergine in a rich tomato sauce served au gratin was delightful and flavoursome. We both revelled in the now unfamiliar aroma of oregano.
Steamed caramel cake |
For me, the dessert was king. A steamed caramel cake that, although being made from wheat flour, seemed to owe some of its bounciness to the local tapioca-based varieties, was served with ice cream and small but sweet locally grown strawberries and a palm sugar sauce. Heavenly.
In the evening, we ate lightly at the warung in our accommodation, looking out at the sound and light show as a thunderstorm rolled in.
Urab timun |
I had urab timun - a salad of cucumber mixed with freshly grated coconut and fried shallot. So simple and yet, with rice, just what my overindulged stomach needed.
No comments:
Post a Comment