Just finished breakfast with one Continental and one Balinese choice. Slept well last night after a gruelling and humid afternoon walk. The hotel guests around us are from Europe, Asian and may be even American or Australian – difficult to make out unless one talks to people. No one seemed interested in getting to know others, just like any other place in large hotels and restaurants around the world. I tried to imagine myself sitting alone in a different country and in a place like this. Was not a very pleasant idea. But then I am the product of the sixties and seventies Kolkata, Bengal, India. The sense of kinship bothered and made us feel safe at the same time. We are living in a different world now. This brings me to an interesting discussion that I had with my historian daughter during breakfast. We have seeing individuals (specially white) searching for spirituality in Bali through rituals and yoga and
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Bali Indonesia
Embarking on our Bali adventure today. The journey followed the familiar ritual of airports: standing in endless queues, navigating immigration, and dutifully completing forms that seemingly vanish into administrative oblivion. Despite the travel fatigue, the promise of Bali’s lush landscapes and vibrant culture made every tedious moment worthwhile. However, after traveling via Singapore, when I landed in Denpasar airport in Bali, I was immediately struck by the contrast. Instead of the sterile international airport experience, Denpasar welcomed me with stunning traditional artwork adorning the walls, an absence of the usual luxury retail bombardment, and the gentle, mesmerizing sounds of live Balinese gamelan music floating through the terminal. This authentic cultural immersion began right at the airport gates, signalling that perhaps Bali would be a journey unlike any other. Then I visited the toilet and a different kind of surprise awaited me – no attendant, moderately dirty and a paucity of stalls, something that I am not accustomed to anymore because the
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