One thing I love the most about my hometown, Bogor, is its proximity to the mountains. (Well, that, and the abundance of delicious street food). To me, beaches are lively and intense, forests are adventurous and mystical, but mountains are tranquil and relaxing. When I want to do nothing, I go to the mountains.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

To do nothing at all is the most difficult thing in the world, the most difficult and the most intellectual.

—Oscar Wilde

A few days ago, I found my latest favorite spot for ‘doing nothing’ in Mount Pancar. I was surprised knowing that it was only 30-40 minutes away by car from Bogor, and the journey was free from traffic jams.

We drove to the mountain from Sentul Selatan exit; passing the posh residential complex and a gigantic amusement park before climbing further up until the road became narrow and bumpy. The sounds dimmed, the air cleared, the mountain top appeared, and we drove through the villages, further up, and further up. We stopped at Babakan Ngantai village and entered an establishment that looked like it could be someone else’s house.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Well, it is, to some extent.

The Hidden Gem of Mount Pancar.

Tirta Arsanta is a gorgeous family-owned hot spring retreat overlooking the mountain.

The place reminded me of those stories Indonesian kids wrote for our composition homework in elementary school: those stories about how we spend our fictional weekend visiting our fictional grandfather in a fictional village.

Only this time, the place is real.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

The resort hosts four teak joglo villas—each with a private mineral hot spring pool—surrounded by gardens where bananas are hanging from its tree. The villas are rented for IDR 1.5 million on weekdays and IDR 1.8 million on weekends. However, the room is so spacious—and with extra beds, you can have 4-5 people sleeping there comfortably. Two private hot spring pools, each with a spacious seating area and private shower room, are also available for visitors who do not wish to spend the night at IDR 350K for 4 people.

Down below is a small river you can cross to reach the vegetable plantation and the pine forest. To get there, be prepared to say hello to the gouramis, the chickens, and the geese. If you’re lucky, you can also meet the friendly owner, Pak Faisol, and converse with him on various different subjects through the night.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta exudes a certain familiar warmth and smells of lemongrass. I was surrounded by the sounds of nature and the beautiful view of the mountain. Everything that came out from the kitchen tasted delicious: the crispy banana fritters, the pecel madiun, the grilled rice with salted fish, the kampung fried rice, the ginger lemon tea…

I sometimes wonder if eating our meal in a beautiful place can actually improve its taste.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

I spent my time around the compound mostly barefoot, feeling carefree, and child-like. That day, I came with a book I wanted to finish, but at the end of the day, I was mostly just walking around, relaxing, daydreaming, and enjoying the view. Phone signal, like the Wi-Fi connection, was unreliable (the villagers use Indosat); but it was actually a good thing. I love to unplug every once and a while, as it helps me to rest and be still.

In the evening, Pak Henri—the manager of the resort, invited a massage lady from the nearby village. Bik Nur came to my room equipped with herbal oil and a sarong. The staff had prepared an extra bed for my full body massage; and after more than an hour, my muscles were so relaxed I felt like a jellyfish.

As the temperature went down, I stepped into the private hot spring pool by my villa’s terrace—feeling its comforting heat on my skin until sleepiness nudged me on the shoulder.

The Village of Hot Springs and The Pine Forest.

Mount Pancar is rich in hot springs. Near Tirta Arsanta retreat, there are 3 sources of hot springs the locals referred to as Red crater, Green crater, and Black crater. A 20-minute stroll from the resort, crossing the river, would take you to these craters. There was no strong sulphuric smell in the air, as the village hosts mineral hot springs, not sulphuric ones.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

“You see, there are mosses growing here,” Pak Henri said when we visited the Green crater. “The locals believe that you can use it as a beauty mask. You can scrape the moss, add the mineral water from the hot spring, and blend it into a paste to be smeared on your face. After a while, it would harden and you’d feel as if your face was stretched out. Do you want to try? I can get some for you later when we’re back.”

“Sure!” I exclaimed. It would be an experience to get this local beauty treatment while I was there!

That morning, Pak Henri took me and my friend, Chyntia, on a hike to the craters and the pine forest surrounding the village. It was quite a mild hike (I was on my leather sandal), but the track could be steep at times. It took almost 3.5 hours for us to go there and back, but the hike offers lovely scenery of the vegetable plantations and the villagers plucking chilis and climbing trees.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Pak Henri, like all the staff at Tirta Arsanta, came from the village. During our hike to the pine forest, we made several stops at the villagers’ houses when the owner called out to him.

“We’re walking to the pine forest,” he said.
“Walking? From the resort? So far!” the villagers responded.

I was scared hearing this as I was reminded of the day when I got lost in Taipei’s Yangmingshan National Park, looking for hot springs. At the time, tired and sweating, I stopped by a police station to ask about the exact location of the hot springs, but it seemed like the police officers could not explain it in English.

They could only say, “Ah, far, far.”
When I asked, “How far?”
The police officers replied by extending their hands, and said: “Faaaaaaaaaaaaaar.”

But the pine forest was not that far, and we reached it in another 30-40 minutes. The forest is where the locals go for dating or family outings. “I don’t know why they love it here,” said Pak Henri. “I mean, there’s nothing here but trees.”

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

But Chyntia and I loved it there. The breeze was lovely and the view was beautiful. We walked around the area, posing at a huge rock, and watching a ladybird. Chyntia also found a green pinecone. It made me feel as if I was transported to a scene from Ghibli’s My Neighbor Totoro.

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

A Soak in Time.

The best thing to do after a hike was dipping our sore feet in the refreshing water of the river; had some breakfast, and then retreated to our villa for a hot spring soak by the terrace. Pak Henri had prepared our traditional moss-mask from the hot springs, so Chyntia and I started our DIY beauty treatment by the pool. I could feel how strong the moss-mask stretched my skin; although the application made our bathroom quite messy and muddy (sorry, Pak!).

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Tirta Arsanta Gunung Pancar

Maybe the time spent ‘doing nothing‘ can actually be a time well-spent, even if it’s just a day!

Lately, I am so used to long-term travels—in which I am actually working while traveling. It is fun, yes, and I am grateful for the opportunity; although to be honest, at times it can also feel intense and tiring. Pausing a reset button for a day; doing nothing but enjoying nature and having a relaxing time with a friend was actually reinvigorating.

For a day, forget Facebook and Instagram. Get your feet dirty. Smear muddy moss-mask on your face. Smile to the villagers as you pass by. Smell the lemongrass. Sweat as you hike. Jump into the river. Soak in the hot spring. Slow down.

And then, be still.

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I am very protective of my mornings.

One thing I appreciate the most about working independently is the flexibility that comes with it: the flexibility to manage my own time based on my own pace. For me, this means protecting my mornings.

Naturally, I wake up early; as soon as there is sunlight in the room—which is why I love to sleep with my curtains and windows open. But I love to take my time in the morning. To go slow. I spend some time just lying in bed, feeling the way my body tingles with life after an 8-hour rest and remembering my dreams. Then I would reach out to my bedside table, grab a book, and start reading. I reserve at least the first 2 hours in the morning for myself: reading, writing in my journal, having coffee, dancing, or listening to uplifting or inspiring talks and interviews.

For this reason, I love late breakfast. I don’t like to prepare some food or fill myself up first thing in the morning, so breakfast has to wait. Until later. Until around 10.

Some mornings deserve a big hearty breakfast.

Those mornings are not meant for instant coffee and leftovers, yogurt and granolas, or apples and bananas. They are the kind of mornings when you are craving to be pampered with food. Good ones.

You know exactly when you experience these mornings from the time you wake up. You could be very sad, very happy, very tired, very energetic, very heartbroken, or very much in love; but you know that you just want to start your morning by slouching in someplace nice, ordering a full breakfast served in a beautiful plate with beautiful presentation, and sipping a good cup of coffee. A big cup of coffee.

breakfast in ubud

breakfast in ubud

breakfast in ubud

When I woke up groggy one morning, D suggested that we have it: that big hearty breakfast. Not knowing that by asking me to eat, he already lifted up my mood level a notch.

“Pick a place,” he said. “And we’ll go there.”

My ‘Secret place’ pick for breakfast in Ubud.

D and I have this thing about ‘secret places’. On slower days, after clearing each other’s schedule for the day, one of us would exclaim: “I am going to take you to a secret place today!”

A ‘trip’ to a secret place means:

  1. it is a place we have never visited together before
  2. it is either a beautiful place or a place offering a beautiful experience
  3. we will spend some time there relaxing and lazying around
  4. the person suggesting the secret place would offer to pay

That particular morning, for the big hearty breakfast, I decided to choose a ‘secret place’.

There was this cafe called No Mas in Ubud‘s Monkey Forest Road that we frequented in the evenings to catch up with friends. Below the cafe, there was this hipstery-looking place called FOLK. Usually, it was already dark and closed when we’re about to have some drinks at No Mas.

breakfast in ubud

I read some online reviews of the place and found quite a bunch of surprisingly mouth-watering testimonials. So, I told D to drive to No Mas; because our secret place for breakfast in Ubud would be ‘nearby’.

breakfast in ubud

I always opt for good food, not Instagrammable food.

When our order came, they looked exactly like Instagram food. So pretty and neat and clean, carefully carrying all the right color combination to look wonderful on my camera. They even came with edible flower petals. And the portion was quite big.

breakfast in ubud

breakfast in ubud

Imagine our surprise when instead of simply looking good, the food actually tasted delicious!

The good reviews were spot on!

We had the epitome of a big hearty breakfast: toast, poached egg, bacon, spinach, potato, and beans—and also a healthier version of toast, poached egg, avocado, and feta cheese. Plus a cup of cappuccino and latte. Each element of the dish is delicious in itself; each one a bomb of flavors, even when tasted separate.

A good hearty breakfast can always make my mornings and lift up my mood. And that day, I must have chosen a good secret place.

breakfast in ubud

breakfast in ubud

breakfast in ubud

Folk Kitchen & Espresso
Jl. Monkey Forest, Ubud, Kabupaten Gianyar, Bali 80571
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Sunset Spot in Ubud

Are you the sunrise type, or the sunset type?

I have been sharing a room with Mumun from the travel blog Indohoy during some of our trips, and before bed, she always said enthusiastically, “Let’s wake up early tomorrow and watch the sunrise!” – to which I responded with: “Well, let’s see tomorrow.”

Usually, the next day, we would open our eyes at around 7—looking at each other sleepily, still curling in bed, our stomachs growling, craving for breakfast. Nobody mentioned the sunrise that has completely risen by then.

So, let’s just say that I’m more of the sunset type.

Sunset Spot in Ubud

My latest sunset spot in Ubud.

Apart from the Tjampuhan Ridge, lately, my favorite sunset spot in Ubud is hidden just in the midst of its center. A few meters across Bisma Street, before the entrance to Tjampuhan Ridge, a rocky uphill path takes you to a narrow alley leading up to Subak Sok Wayah. There, a winding narrow track awaits: lined with cafes, guesthouses, and shops selling paintings and souvenirs on the left, and rice fields on the right.

Sunset Spot in Ubud

Sunset Spot in Ubud

Cafes and restaurants with sunset views are plenty along the track, perfect to wind down after a stroll around Ubud. A small cafe even offers a reading of your Vedic charts—could be a fun pastime for the curious! I personally love waiting for sunset while reading on Kindle at Sari Organik or Cafe Pomegranate. They are located not too far away from one another.

Sunset Spot in Ubud

Sunset Spot in Ubud

The Golden Hour.

There is something magical with the lights at this hour. When I was little, I used to think that sunset was a gate to another realm. There must be a door somewhere behind those beautiful lights, leading up to an enchanted forest with imps, fairies, and talking animals. As a grown-up, I still get the chilling excitement of watching the sun goes down; still having the feeling that I have just been transported ‘somewhere’ without actually moving, or leaving.

The In-Between.

My friend once told me, that we can feel the Divine between our breath: that tiny moment in-between inhaling and exhaling. There are many in-between moments in our daily lives: when we walk, in-between the changing of our left and right foot; when we brush our teeth, in-between the moment when the brush leaves and touches our teeth; when we eat, in-between the tasting and the swallowing of our food.

In watching sunsets. In-between light and dark: that tiny window into the magical world of a pivotal moment when eternity sneaks in through something so mundane and temporary.

Sunset Spot in Ubud

Sunset Spot in Ubud

SARI ORGANIK
Address: Jl. Subak Sok Wayah, Tjampuhan, Ubud
Phone: (0361) 972087

CAFE POMEGRANATE
Address: Jl. Subak Sok Wayah, Ubud
Phone: 0878-6080-3632

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traveling alone

Traveling alone? Going solo on a trip of a lifetime? I know how challenging it could be, but it doesn’t have to be difficult. Here’s the thing: you don’t have to end up alone throughout your journey–if you don’t want to.  

TRAVELING ALONE DOESN’T MAKE YOU A LONELY TRAVELER.

It was a hot, cloudy, and humid afternoon in the mid of 2012. At around 1 pm, the beach of El Nido in the Philippines was deserted. The colorful boats were floating sleepily, swayed by the occasional waves.

Most tourists were out for island-hopping; or hiding from the scorching sun in one of the many bars and restaurants around town. There was really nothing much to do at this hour. Electricity was cut off from 6 am to 2 pm, forcing everyone to get out of their stuffy rooms.

“Don’t you feel lonely traveling alone?” asked Lani, a Filipino mother of two who sat beside me by the beach. 

This was the next question she asked—right after she learned that I was in El Nido by myself.

Maria and Klein, Lani’s giggly children, were the ones who found me first by the hammock. They said hello after spending some time curiously eyeing my DSLR. I signaled them to come closer and showed them how to take pictures with the camera. Once they got a hang of it, they ran around the beach capturing the sky, the ocean, the sand, as well as themselves.

Lani joined us a moment later, bringing over a plate of pink cold coconut jelly she made. She was there to enjoy her military husband’s day off with the kids.

“Even I still feel lonely here at times,” Lani said. “I moved here following my husband. Originally, I came from Nara—my family and friends were still there.”

I looked at Lani in disbelief. “What a coincidence, Lani! Two days from now, I am planning to go to Nara. But I still haven’t found out how to get there.”

“Really? You’re going to Nara?” Lani’s face lit up. And her voice caught a cheerful tone that wasn’t fully there before. “Hold on! Don’t worry. I’ll call a few friends!”

And just like that, Lani left me with a plate of pink cold coconut jelly. She was busy punching her mobile phone’s keypads and talked loudly and rapidly in Tagalog. Her hand is moving comically. She made several other phone calls afterward. A few minutes later, she came to me with a big grin on her face.

traveling alone

“All is taken care of! You’ll go by small bus to Nara. They’ll pick you up right here at 7 in the morning. Then you’ll switch to another bus at the terminal. The bus driver who picks you up here will hand you over to the next bus driver. Then they’ll get you off by a small path leading to the beach. There will be a motorcycle there already, waiting to get you to the beach resort you want to go to.”

I was impressed. And touched. I didn’t expect that everything could be arranged so instantaneously. I thanked Lani many times.

On the day of my departure to Nara, all went smoothly—just the way Lani had planned.

The bus drivers recognized me as Lani’s ‘foreign friend’ and always tried to make friendly conversations. On my way to Nara, Lani called the bus driver to check up on me. Even when I had arrived, Lani was still sent me text messages to see if I was doing okay, if I liked the resort, or if I needed more help.

I almost giggled, but then I was swept by a gush of love and affection towards her.

Lani acted like a mother: anxious when having to part with a daughter who needs to travel far for the first time.

That was when I got reminded of Lani’s question a few days before, by the beach:

Don’t you feel lonely traveling alone?

But with people like Lani on my journeys, how is it even possible for me to feel lonely?

traveling alone

TRAVELING ALONE ISN’T ALWAYS EASY. BUT IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE DIFFICULT, EITHER.

Solo traveling is not forever light and easy.

I have to admit that there are loads of other challenges (apart from ‘being lonely’) need to be addressed when you’re traveling alone.

These include:

  • budget issue – it can be more expensive when you have to rent a car or a boat by yourself, while when you’re traveling with a group, you can easily share the costs.
  • quota issue – some activities, i.e. island-hopping, snorkeling, cooking class, etc. sometimes require a minimum quota of 3-4 people.
  • safety issue – when you’re going out late at night or finding yourself in a ‘tricky’ situation, you feel safer when you’re not alone.
  • social issue – sometimes you simply want to eat with someone, connect, have a chat, or a nice conversation over drinks.

 

However, lately, I started to recognize the most comfortable arrangements for me when traveling alone.

For instance, when I’m traveling alone, I would choose to stay in a hostel rather than in a hotel. Even if I have extra money, I would still prefer to splurge on a private room in a hostel rather than in a budget hotel. Or else, I would rent a room in a local’s house—preferably, with the owner living there.

In Kyiv, for instance, I stayed at a hostel in an artsy stretch of Andriyivsky.

traveling alone

When I got there in the morning, a lady with blonde hair gave me a warm welcome at the entrance. Her name was Katya. “If you have rested well, this evening just comes down to the common room,” she said. “We can go club-hopping together if you like dancing!”

Oh, I really love dancing!

One of the challenges I need to face when traveling alone is going to a dance club by myself late at night. For safety reasons, this particular activity does feel more comfortable to be experienced with at least another friend—except if the club is quite near to the place where I stay; or if I have recognized the surrounding areas really well.

That evening, when I came down to the common room, I didn’t only meet Katya. I also made friends with Fransisco—a Brazilian who traveled around Europe and stayed at different hostels because he wanted to open up a hostel, and his roommate, Francois—a French guy who resides in the UK. There were also a bunch of Russian guys and girls who didn’t speak English fluently—but fortunately, they never gave up on communicating and sharing their stories.

Together, we wandered around the streets of Kyiv at night: laughing, singing, dancing, and sharing taxis to move from one dance club to another—before ending up at a small restaurant, sipping chicken soup at 4 am.

In Mumbai, India, I met Tej.

I knew him through one of those sites that aim to connect travelers.

traveling alone

Since I was in Mumbai for a business trip, I stayed in a hotel not far from the city center. It’s a nice business hotel, but I still don’t know how to connect with other travelers in a hotel. As I was still keen to discover the city with a local and see Mumbai from a local’s perspective, I was happy when Tej generously made an offer to pick me up at my hotel and show me the city.

That afternoon, Tej took me for a walk around Coolaba market—helping me to bargain, choosing saris, as well as carrying a bag of storybooks I bought impulsively. In the evening, he took me to Bandra—an area that is well known for its lines of fancy homes and apartments that belong to Bollywood celebrities.

“Look!” said Tej, pointing to a house with many people crowding in front of it. “That’s Shahrukh Khan’s house. It’s usual for people to have a picnic in front of it. And that one, over there, that’s Karisma Kapoor’s apartment.”

Lani, Katya, Francois, Fransisco, the entertaining Russian guys and girls, and Tej: they were the reasons why I never felt lonely when I was traveling alone.  

TRAVELING ALONE? HERE ARE SOME TIPS ON HOW NOT TO BE (AND FEEL) ALONE: 

Find free accommodation, free tour, or a local friend to explore the city with at Couchsurfing.com

Through this site, you can find people from all around the world who open up their houses for you to stay in, for free. Choose a host that has been verified and received a lot of good reviews from other travelers. You can also search for various traveler’s meet-ups or joining a free tour around town that is often being offered by fellow site members.

Meet fellow travelers by booking your stay via Hostelworld.com

Living in a traveler’s hostel is the most comfortable way to meet with other travelers—especially with those who are also traveling alone. Through this site, you can find a hostel with the most suitable location and price for your needs. You can also read reviews about these hostels as well as interesting activities they are hosting for travelers. Having a credit card will be really handy to do bookings through this site.

traveling alone

Stay with a local and experience living with a local family via Airbnb.com

Compared to staying in a hotel, renting a room in a local’s house or apartment can be an option. It will be better if the host is living there with you. You can get a lot of interesting insights about the local’s favorite places to visit, or even get invited to spend time with your host and his friends! Your credit card will be very useful to confirm your bookings.

Meet like-minded friends in the city you’re traveling to by attending meet-up events via MeetUp.com

When you have a particular interest: cooking, dancing, language exchange, developing websites… it’s always nice to bump into a group of people who share the same enthusiasm towards these things. Finding meet-up events in the city you’re traveling to is a convenient way to get connected with people who share the same passion. You can also ask these people about secret venues/hidden gems in the city, based on your specific interests.

Traveling alone means having the opportunity to make more new friends along the way!

PS: You might want to check out this article: Yes, I’m Female. And I’m Traveling Alone. I wrote some safety tips on being a solo female traveler.
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The place I like best in the world is the kitchen.

With this heart-robbing sentence, so begins the story of a young woman, Mikage Sakurai, as she’s dealing with love and loss while trying to find her place in the world.

After more than 10 years, the novel Kitchen by Japanese author Banana Yoshimoto is still one of my all-time personal favourites. I couldn’t remember how often have I taken this book out from the shelf and read it again cover to cover, I could almost remember most of the words by heart. The pages have started to yellow and worn out to the point that I started to think of getting myself another copy—just in case.

A SOVIET KITCHEN, MELON, & COGNAC.

That evening, we had just wrapped up our dinner in a local establishment in Kyiv, well-known for its varenyky; a kind of Ukrainian dumpling. I enjoyed mine with gusto (mushroom-filled and served with sour cream) while Ieugenia and Kyryl told me some stories about their childhood as they remember it when Ukraine was still a part of the Soviet Union.

It was drizzling outside when we stepped out, just as Kyryl had predicted in the afternoon. He had sniffed the air earlier as we were walking around Andriyivskyy—dubbed as Kyiv’s most charming street, and exclaimed: “It’s going to rain later on!”

He was right.

We huddled together in front of the establishment, thinking of what to do next. We didn’t feel like going out, but we were still eager to converse some more. So Kyryl said, “Let’s go to Ieugenia’s place, then. We can just hang out there. This way, you can also see the typical Soviet flat!”

The drizzle turned into the pouring rain, so Kyryl stopped a taxi. I sat at the back with Ieugenia, and off we went to a ‘typical Soviet flat’. According to the couple, old apartment buildings in Ukraine built during the Soviet era have identical rooms. “All the furniture, the desk, the chairs, the bed, the stove, the layout, everything is identical!” said Kyryl with much amusement as we climbed the stairs to Ieugenia’s flat.

When Ieugenia opened the front door, I gasped at the view of a ‘typical Soviet flat’ and gasped some more as she gave me a short tour. I felt like I had just transported back to my childhood home in the ’80s. All the furniture and the electronic appliances were the ones I recognized by heart from the times when I was still too short to touch the kitchen counter!

The tube television, the radio, the stove, the cupboard, the washing machine… I kept on pointing at them and laughed nostalgically: “I had one exactly like this when I was little! And this! And this!”

We spent the evening sitting in a ‘typical Soviet kitchen‘ that looked exactly like the kitchen in my childhood home where I could find my mother frying egg with margarine. The similarity was so striking, even to the table cloth.

Kyryl served cognac and cut some melons (“This is not something Ukrainian, to eat melons with cognac,” he laughed. “But this is the only thing we have lying around. And the melon is really good! So sweet!”). We sat there for hours, talking, while the government’s radio was playing some songs in the background.

The tint of its static sound reminded me of the days when I was 8 and found the short wave (SW) switch on my parent’s old radio. That day, all of a sudden, my room was filled with foreign languages: a different kind of strange sounds I didn’t truly comprehend. They came all the way from faraway places: Australia, Britain, Germany, China…

I listened to these radio broadcasts ceremoniously, as if it was my one-way ticket to get transported to another world: a magical one.

I was a kid who found the SW broadcast to be way more interesting than television. I sprawled myself on the floor, one ear glued to the speaker, listening to foreign people reading news in foreign languages from faraway countries. My mother was the one who told me that it was, indeed, just a news broadcast.

However, to me as a little girl, it was a promise. A promise that there was another kind of world out there, a world I felt so close and so attached to, as magical as those foreign voices wafted around my bedroom.

TRAVELING THE KITCHENS.

When I came to think about it, the SW radio broadcast was probably the first impulse I had as a little girl to dream about traveling. And when it comes to the kitchen, as a little girl I spent most of my time in it, watching my parents cook.

I squatted near the oil stove when my mother cooked a huge pan of chicken soto (clear herbal broth with turmeric and herbs) for the New Year, and enthusiastically took the small duty of brushing egg yolk on top of about-to-be-baked kaasstengels (Dutch-Indonesian cookie) as if it was a great responsibility. I hovered around my grandmother as she cooked instant noodles inside a dented pot (the bottom was blackened after years of use) for my grandfather. I adored the smell of the kitchen as my father made scrambled eggs with stinky beans and sweet soy sauce.

Later in life, as I traveled around either for business or pleasure, I found myself ‘adopted’ by a kitchen, again and again. It was in the kitchen that I could experience those moments when I was still technically a stranger but didn’t really feel or being treated like one.

A Filipino lady who lived in Kuala Lumpur took me to her kitchen and taught me how to cook chicken with potato, tomato, onion and cream.

In the remote island of Sawendui in Papua, I squatted in front of the communal outdoor kitchen, along with the dogs and a cat, while the village women cooked rice, mussels, and shrimp the men had just caught a few minutes earlier. In a transmigration village in Pontianak, I let my eyes got teary from the smoke as the village women cooked rice, vegetables, sambal (Indonesian hot relish), and salted fish over a wooden stove. They were chatting and laughing as they cooked, the sounds of pots and pans and plates as they bumped into one another were simply musical.

I loitered around Ian Curley from Conviction Kitchen in Jakarta as he prepared beef tartare and leek salads, and sat right in front of the kitchen during breakfast in Blixen, an artsy brasserie in Spitalfields, London, watching the Chef manned the kitchen staff in awe: reading orders aloud, giving instructions on what to prepare next, and inspecting each plate before it was served to the customers.

I assisted the making of ricotta dessert with honey, orange, and cinnamon for Christmas lunch in Albiate, Italy, shredding the zests of the fresh-picked oranges while the family’s black cat, Pepe, slept soundly under the kitchen table; then hovered over Elena (an Italian girl who speaks Mandarin) in another kitchen next door as she made red wine risotto. I borrowed the kitchen a few days after a visit to the Esselunga (supermarket) to make sambal goreng ati (liver, potato, and shrimp cooked in spicy coconut milk) for the family.

I spent a day smelling of coconut milk and garlic in a spacious kitchen in Amsterdam to make gado-gado (Indonesian vegetable salad with peanut sauce), rendang (slow-cooked meat in spicy coconut milk), tofu and eggplant gulai (Indonesian curry-like sauce), as well as mojito cheesecake for a New Year’s Eve dinner party.

IF YOU WANT TO KNOW SOMEONE, SPEND TIME WITH THEM IN THE KITCHEN.

There’s always something magical and meditative about spending some time in the kitchen: either it’s for cooking dinner, preparing breakfast, baking cakes, brewing coffee, or simply watching someone getting busy around the kitchen counter.

The living room is too polite, the bedroom is too intimate, the terrace is too open, the bathroom is too weird, but when someone took you to their kitchen, you’ve somehow been taken in. You’ve crossed the line between a guest and a good friend.

It is in the kitchen that stories were being poured out over pans and pots and kettles and bowls; just like in the old days when women cooked together for a festivity and whispered their hearts’ secrets as they washed vegetables, peeled garlic and onions, boiled chicken broth, marinated fish in salt and tamarind, and scrubbed their turmeric-stained fingers with cucumber and key lime.

It is mostly in the kitchen, around the dining table, or over a kitchen counter, life-changing news was brought out to the open. It is in the kitchen, those family members who do not see or talk to one another as often as they like bumped into one another as they’re about to grab something from the refrigerator.

Because in the kitchen, even in such circumstances when nobody was talking, the silence itself tells a story. Just like the faint sound of the soup in a pan, discreetly boiling over a small fire.

Dream kitchens.

I will have countless ones, in my heart or in reality. Or in my travels. Alone, with a crowd of people, with one other person—in all the many places I will live. I know that there will be so many more. [Banana Yoshimoto]

hanny
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Travel triggers a change in our outlook: from goal-directed to present-moment. It’s not literally the experience of novelty, but the way we open ourselves up when we’re traveling.

Travel is a state of mind. We leave our routine to observe, experiment, and come back with stories that we could tell. There is, of course, a variety of travel that involves box-ticking and taking selfies by the landmarks, but even that’s a starting point. Inevitably, we end up behaving a little differently for the duration of our little get-away.

On top of that, a natural, effortless present moment awareness that comes with having to deal with foreign-languages and strange hotel rooms leaves us open to not just learn about the external world, but allow the internal to bubble up to the surface.

I am traveling a lot at the moment.

This time, I traveled abroad to help my friend with a business launch. The flight times were awkward, the flights expensive, but I knew it was the right thing to do and didn’t even feel the friction. She is imminently going live with a career-defining project.

I asked myselfwhat is this week going to be like for me? The answer was a resoundingand curious“I have no idea.”

Usually, I take ownership of the projects. I do the tasks only I can do. I play to my strengths and drag other people with me. However, this time, that wasn’t what was I imagined would be required. I was needed to help with getting the post, answering emails, making strategic decisionsand taking out the rubbish. Being on call for whatever was neededa bit like a doctor would be. It could be a cardiac arrest or it could be something near inconsequential. I could be saving the day or getting coffee. I was implicitly called there for the sake of being thereas they say.

As I looked out onto the wing of the plane, I felt discomfort at this thought. Is this really what I want to do? My mindfulness exercises must be paying offbecause again, I didn’t know and, without any judgment, was curious to find out. That’s the thing about travelingit gives us the freedom to experiment. Leaving my normal MO for a week allows me to play a different rolejust temporarily. It’s less scary to try new roles that way. It’s not a big commitmentit’s just for a week.

Acknowledging my reluctance, I saidthat’s what I’ll do. I’ll let go of my own goals for a weekand just go with the flow.

Be reactive. Mindfulness is so hard to put in words.

One of the benefits is often phrased as “being less reactive.” It’s easy to misinterpret. In a way, it leads to being more reactiveonly appropriately so. Instead of being on autopilot and presuming things, we perceive the world more openly, more fullyand thus respond moreand more appropriately.

Traveling involves being ok with regular interruptions and allowing for deviations from the plan due to new circumstances inherent in the journey. It is a way to be in the present moment.

Travel makes us more aware of the world around us. In a way, our constant slipping into daydreams or anxieties is a product of routineand travel is the ultimate antidote.

Knowing that we have to be in the office by 9 a.m., go for our break at 11 a.m.and so on, tempts many into wanting to escape itif not literally, then mentallyby thinking of what we will have for dinner or whether the cute guy in accounting is single. Buddhists advocate disciplined routine as a way to be in the moment. For someone like me, it seems to backfire a lot: if I know what’s comingwhy would I pay attention?

The truth is, of course, I don’t know what’s coming.

It’s a bit like the placebo effectwe perceive what we expect. How does a restless millennial like me with a million addictive apps I use to not have to be right here – convince myself to be in the boring here? It is quite challenging to be really in tune with the present moment when it’s as you expect it. I believe “watching paint dry” is the appropriate metaphor. Incidentally, watching paint dry would be a great meditation.

A sense of novelty opens the senses to not only the sights and culturesbut what we otherwise deemed to be boring.

That’s why traveling is healingand a way to rediscover ourselves. Being on the rails of routine in a goal-directed way is a sure way to be miserable. In my opinion, this is a major contributor to the unhappiness of the many millennials who seem to passionately despise the 9 to 5not just because they don’t like what they are doingbut they are also allergic to how they are doing it.

The concept of a “gap year” is incredibly popular now.

In fact, for many of my friends, their gap year became the best year of their lives. The common assumption is that traveling widens our horizons by showing us all these cultures and ways of thinking in an organic way. I think it changes our state of mind. Instead of being in a goal-directed routine, we are in scout-mode: What is this? What does this mean? Not the usualhow do I get from A to B while optimizing for C? This scout-mentality spills over to how we view our feelings.

So what was this week of travel like?

It wasn’t just a change in geography. It was a change in mental state and purpose. What ended up happening was a surprise. I helped to codein a way, I had never done before and made batches and batches of coffee each day. Both felt incredibly satisfying because I knew they were needed. Instead of defining that I was only going to do x, y, and z, I did what seemed right in the moment.

An even bigger surprise was that I got a huge amount of “my own” work donethe stuff I had decided to shift into the background as I embarked on my escapade. It could be a coincidence, but things just happened more easilypeople got back, wanted to help, meet, and create. Or perhaps, I was expecting that nothing would progress that weekso when it did, it was that bit extra fascinating.

Letting go of goals and expectations is uncomfortable given the culture we live in. If the reader is debating whether he or she should try ittry it in experimental mode when you’re travelling. It may just work well for you.

………………
This guest post is brought to you by Martina: a medical doctor, blogger, and entrepreneur. She regularly blogs at thinkingclearly.co. Are you interested to do a guest post here? Just drop me a note.
hanny
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Book Hunting in Singapore: 1-Day Walking Tour
Books Actually in Yong Siak Street carried books and short stories from local authors. A resident cat can be found sitting on the countertop. Modeling pour moi, the fashionable bookworm, Clara Devi.

“You are here for the bookstores?” the lady at our hostel in Singapore asked. She wears her hair long; has colorful eyelids and nails; with a preference for the bright-colored tight tops.

I was sitting leisurely at the reception one morning after taking a shower, ready for the day’s book hunting. The hostel lady was there, sorting some envelopes on her desk by the window, and she offered me coffee. When my friends W and C appeared, she asked us about our plans for the day. Hence, the bookstores.

“Go to Bras Basah,” she said. “You can find any kind of books and a generous selection of bookstores to browse from.”

As always, the local was right.

We went crazy in Bras Basah complex, hopping from one bookstore to another, adding more and more books into our backpack.

***

Personally, I love chaotic bookstores with amazing shopkeepers.

The kind of store where you could not really tell which shelves contain which books, but you could always ask the shopkeeper and he would respond as if he were an online catalog: navigating you in an instant through the small alleys smelled of mildew and old papers to some hidden shelf littered with covers and titles, and there you found the book you were looking for.

Book Hunting in Singapore: 1-Day Walking Tour
Littered with Books is a wonderful place if you’re looking for travel books, writer’s interviews, or recipes. The travel shelf is upstairs. This picture is taken by my book-hunting partner, Clara Devi of Lucedale.co.

Later that afternoon (or two bags of books later), we sheltered ourselves from the pouring rain and sat at a lovely restaurant in Ann Siang Hill, savoring a pan of hot paella. We had circled this area a few times after leaving Bras Basah, and still not seeing the next bookstore we were looking for. So we asked the waitress if she knew anything about it.

“Oh, they closed down!” she said, and probably seeing our disappointed faces, added, “You are here only for the bookstores?”

***

Yes, most of the time, I’m in Singapore only for the bookstores.

I have been frequenting Singapore for book hunting since they still have this massive bookstore, Borders. I still remember how ecstatic I was when I found a special shelf there, dedicated to books about writing.

Book Hunting in Singapore: 1-Day Walking Tour
Woods in the Books. Another bookstore in Yong Siak Street. The street itself is so artsy and picturesque. Cannot stop snapping pictures here.

I could spend hours in front of this shelf alone; flipping a writer’s glossary book that would help writers find the correct terms used in a specific industry/area. Boating, for instance. (Boat-hook: a pole with a hook on the end, used to reach into the water to catch buoys or other floating objects. Fender: an air or foam filled bumper used in boating to keep boats from banging into docks or each other, Icebreaker: a special-purpose ship or boat designed to move and navigate through ice-covered waters.)

Unlike India, where the price of books is really cheap (the price for 1 book in Indonesia equals to 3 books in India, and I ended up shipping 10 kilograms of books from Jaipur), Singapore may not be the cheapest option to shop for books.

However, the options are abundant!

Although I was heartbroken after Borders was closed, today I cherished the birth of local indie bookstores around Singapore; that only adds up to more varieties and experience for book-hunters. Not to mention the events, workshops, or book discussions they are sprouting from time to time to keep the community alive!

***

Visiting Singapore soon and thinking about having a one-day walking tour for book hunting? I’ve created this walking route for book shopping in Singapore that may help you navigate your way around!

Book Hunting in Singapore: 1-Day Walking Tour
Wear your comfy shoes, bring a bottle of water, and carry a big backpack with you. You’ll fill the backpack with many, many books! And, 7 books later, you’ll be thankful for bringing a backpack instead of a tote bag 🙂

Book Hunting in Singapore: 1-Day Walking Tour

(0). ARAB STREET & HAJI LANE | 9.00 AM – 9.50 AM

Always start with a good and hearty breakfast! Many food stalls are available in Arab Street, serving Chinese, Malay, Indian, and even Indonesian breakfast from 7 AM. I personally love a warm portion of martabak and teh tarik at Singapore Zam Zam Restaurant. From there, walk leisurely along Haji Lane with its lovely murals and picturesque facades. Stores and cafes are still closed in the morning (mostly open around noon), exactly why I love being here at these hours just to stroll along, snap pictures, and feel inspired.

(1) NATIONAL LIBRARY OF SINGAPORE | 10.00 AM (open) – 11.00 AM

A 10-minute walk from Haji Lane, you’ll reach the National Library of Singapore. Why, a library should be in the picture when we’re talking about a literary walk, shouldn’t it? Moreover, we’re talking about a 16-story library, with gardens in the building that offered a good view of the city: the Courtyard on Level 5, and the Retreat on Level 10. The collections of books go without saying. Find out if there are any exhibitions on the day of your visit.

(2). BRAS BASAH COMPLEX – 11.02 AM – 12.00 PM

Only a 2-minute walk from the Library, the upper floor of Bras Basah Complex is full of ‘oldies’ small bookshops selling rare and antique books, second-hand books, comic books, and many more. Book display and shelving may not be their thing (love chaotic bookshops!), but they may hide that one gem you’re looking for! Just ask the shopkeeper if you have a particular book in mind. Amazingly, they would remember whether they have the book, and where they shelf it! This is my go-to place to hunt for South Asian books & literature. Find Basheer Graphic Books (#04-19) if you’re into graphic design books: from typography, branding, animation, fashion, architecture, interior design, and many more.

(3a). THE BOOK CAFE – 12.30 PM – 1.20 PM*

*) If you choose this route, you’ll have to go for a 21-minute walk afterward to our next destination. If you choose the other route below, the distance to our next destination is only 3-minute away.

This could be your first option for early lunch. Around a 29-minute walk from Bras Basah Complex, The Book Cafe is surrounded by bookshelves (love!), and comfortable sofas are plenty! Time to cool off and check your book-list. Do you have everything you’re looking for? (Plus, after walking that far, you must be really hungry now!)

(3b). MAXWELL FOOD CENTRE | 12.30 PM – 1.35 PM

Maxwell Food Centre could be your second option for lunch—if you’d prefer hawker stalls rather than a cafe-like establishment. You may want to try Tian Tian chicken rice, Huang Ji wonton noodles, or Fuzhou oyster cake. It’s a 28-minute walk from Bras Basah complex, and you may think it’s quite fair, but here comes the plus point: the location is only 3-minute away from our next stop!

(4). ANN SIANG HILL – 1.40 PM – 2.00 PM

After a 21-minute walk from The Book Cafe (burn those calories!) or just a 3-minute stroll from Maxwell Food Centre, you’ll arrive in Ann Siang Hill. It’s a lovely stretch where you’ll find many concept stores with curated goods as well as Instagram-able cafes. The buildings around this area look beautiful in pastel colors. After Haji Lane in the morning, this could be your afternoon dose of inspired walking!

(5). LITTERED WITH BOOKS – 2.05 PM – 3.15 PM

Only 5-minute away, you’ll stumble upon Littered with Books, a beautiful bookstore with special sections for travel and culinary books in the attic; and a section for books about writing & writers downstairs. Couches are provided here and there, so you can flip the pages of your book leisurely. What I love the most is the hand-written notes glued by the owner on each shelf, giving you recommendations on certain titles to read and why you may find them interesting!

(6a). THE READING ROOM | 3.25 PM – 4.20 PM

Have filled your backpack with more books? After a 6-minute walk, what about a quick stop for coffee at The Reading Room before heading to your next destination? With countless books surrounding you from its walls and puffy cushioned sofas to bury your back comfortably, it could be your first option to sit lazily while checking whether you still have enough Singapore dollars to buy more books!

(6b). GRASSROOTS BOOK ROOM | 3.25 PM – 4.20 PM

The Reading Room’s next-door neighbor can be your second option for a cool breeze from the hot Singapore sun. Only a few steps away, Grassroots Book Room is a serene unconventional bookshop with an adjoining cafe. You’ll find books on Chinese literature and history, as well as recipe books.

(7). WOODS IN THE BOOKS – 4.20 PM – 5.00 PM

I have an unhealthy addiction to beautifully-illustrated children’s books. And after a deserving 21-minute walk from The Reading Room, Woods in The Books would come into view. It’s a quaint little bookstore with all kinds of children’s books to cheer you up: from fiction to nonfiction, in various categories imaginable!

(8). BOOKS ACTUALLY | 5.00 PM – 6.00 PM

This is my go-to bookstore in Singapore to look for works from local authors. A few steps away from Woods in The Books, Books Actually also published anthologies and journals from the newcomers in Singapore’s literary scene. Near the cashier, you would find a stack of Ceriph—a quarterly publication containing prose, poetry, social commentaries, photography, and visual art from local artists. You can take a past issue and pay as you wish by inserting your money into the provided tin-can. There’s a special section containing staff-picked books (I love their picks!) and a resident cat is around if you like to pet it.

(9). THE OPEN DOOR POLICY|  6.05 PM – FINISH

With your backpack full of books, it’s time to head out to a place where you can flip and glimpse at each book you’ve just bought—peacefully while having dinner. Have a short 1-minute walk to The Open Door Policy, and celebrate the day with a portion of crab cake or their delicious lamb dish. Have a sip of fresh juice, massage your feet, and open your backpack while waiting for your meals to arrive. Now, you need to decide: which book to read first?

Full map for your “Book Hunting in Singapore: 1-Day Walking Tour”*

*)If you skip The Book Cafe, you can follow the shorter route from Bras Basah Complex to Maxwell Food Centre (refer to map 3b above)

Happy walking! And happy book-hunting in Singapore!

hanny
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What to do in Pejeng, Bali? One way is to follow the trail of wisdom this beautiful village has to offer.

His was not a happy childhood.

He spent his first few days living inside Kerobokan jail when his parents got detained by the Dutch. His mother breastfed him on the cell and bestowed upon him the name Dewa Gede Badung.

His suicidal thoughts came before the age of 12.

Those were the times when he spent his days mindlessly at Garba Cave. Situated 400 meters above sea level, the cave lies underneath Pengukur-ukuran Temple, above the Pakerisan River in Pejeng village, Bali.

The Caretaker of Garba Cave, Pejeng

Now around the age of 70, he reminisced the days when (for reasons he could not truly comprehend) he got attracted to this hermitage site. As a child, he spent his time running around the cave as well as sitting still with his eyes shut tight. Something he understood later on as meditating.

It was during one of these ‘sittings’ he somehow heard a thought echoed in his head, loud and clear: a message not to end his life.

Thus began the days of new Dewa Gede Badung, as he decided to dedicate his life as a caretaker of Garba Cave in Banjar Sawa Gunung; where Prime Minister (Mahapatih) Kebo Iwa used to meditate back in the 12th century.

I met Dewa Gede Badung one afternoon when I visited Garba Cave. I was still hypnotized by the majestic look of my surroundings when shirtless, he shouted from the top of the huge stairs of stones, asking where I came from. His eyes were sharp, and his build was small but strong.

Easily, he lifted a huge piece of stone covering what to be believed as an underground tunnel of Tampaksiring. “Only those with a pure heart can find a way out of this tunnel,” he said. His eyes sparkling underneath the Pejeng sun.

On How One Should Meditate

Dewa Gede Badung told me the secret of meditating that day: “Pray so you can eat. If you cannot eat, you cannot live. Pray so you can work. So you know what is your duty. Pray so you have a place to go home to.”

I was amazed at how these words could sound so simple, yet so true. It’s not only about meditating, it’s also about living a good life.

One does not need too many things to live a good life.

We need only to eat enough so we can stay functioning and live a healthy life. It is not about indulging ourselves. It is about knowing what is good for us and our bodies.

We need to do our duty and play our part both in society and humanity; we need to serve. When we do so wholeheartedly, we will get what we need in return. Sometimes just enough, or sometimes even more. But we will not experience scarcity.

And last but not least, we need to know that we will be taken care of, to trust, to believe, to have faith, to know that we will always have a place we can call home. A place we can go back to. A place we can reunite with.

On How Nature Heals

IMG-20160809-WA0003
The holy Pakerisan River from the bridge at Gunung Kawi.

David Strayer, a cognitive psychologist at the University of Utah found out that our brains are easily fatigued. There’s a full article in National Geographic on how nature helps us (and our brain) to heal; but all in all, when we slow down, stop the busywork, and take in beautiful natural surroundings, we feel restored.

And our mental performance improves too.

I guess it is for this reason that people take a break from work and go on a holiday to the beach, the lake, or the mountains. Or why I (many times) healed my broken heart by the rice fields in Ubud; or how I felt a strange sense of relief after such a tumultuous relationship just by spending hours sitting surrounded by the trees, birds, and squirrels of Delhi’s Qutb Minar.

Pejeng, once known as the center of Balinese kingdom, also hosted several natural ‘healing’ sites nearby, like Gunung Kawi, Sebatu, Goa Gajah, and Tirta Empul–all centered around water and holy springs.

The Healing Power of Water

For the Balinese, water has always been respected for its cleansing property. May it be flowing like a river, pouring down as rain, or sprouted from a spring—water is considered a holy element that brings forth life, and is mindfully preserved.

Every traditional procession and ceremony in Balinese villages included water or in Balinese, tirta, as one of its most essential elements. It represents a life-giving force, a purifying agent, a blessing.

One of the Balinese traditional purification ceremonies, melukat, resembled a river-bathing activity. A Balinese priest would lead a purification ceremony in a resplendent location at a confluence of rivers and waterfalls—where participants would undergo a series of rituals, including praying, bathing, and soaking themselves in a stream.

The palm-leaf scripture of Manawa Dharmasastra stated that the purification ceremony is for ‘the body to be cleansed with water, the mind to be cleansed with honesty, the soul to be cleansed with knowledge, and the reason to be cleansed with wisdom.’

IMG-20160809-WA0000
The source of the holy spring at Tirta Empul temple is located in the inner courtyard. The spring is filled with green algae.

It was the day before the full moon when Yuni took me to Gunung Kawi, Tirta Empul, and Sebatu. Yuni works at Lanna’s Lair, a lovely villa in Banjar Sawa Gunung, Pejeng, a perfect place to wind down, heal, and get reconnected with yourself.

“These places would be full because tomorrow is a full moon. Everyone is going for the water purification ceremony there,” said Yuni, as she bought banten (offerings) and incense from one of the stalls lining up towards the melukat site.

The first thing I noticed about these sites was how beautiful their surroundings were. All those greeneries, the faint chirping of the birds, the sounds of splashing water… no wonder such places are believed to have healing powers. Just by standing there in silence and absorbing their beauty, I could have felt a wave of peacefulness washing all over me already.

Sebatu turned out to be the most challenging site of the day. One must climb down hundreds of steep sets of stairs to the holy spring, but the stunning view and the lush canopy of green above my head gave me the fuel to keep going.

IMG-20160809-WA0001
Melukat in Sebatu, Pejeng. You need to climb down a set of steep stairs to reach the water purification site.

Going Historical in Pejeng

I have always thought of Pejeng as a small village with nothing but rice fields and natural surroundings. So I was surprised at how many things I could actually do in Pejeng during my stay there. The village and the area nearby are swarming with historical sites!

Apart from Garba Cave, Gunung Kawi, Goa Gajah (or Elephant Cave, a Buddhist sanctuary built in the 9th century), as well as Tirta Empul and Sebatu holy springs, Tampaksiring Palace is located only 20-minute away. Sacred temples like Pengukur-ukuran, Penataran Sasih, Kebo Edan, Samuan Tiga, or Pusering Jagat are placed only a few kilometers away from each other.

Penataran Sasih temple was well-known for hosting the Moon of Pejeng. It is said to be the largest single-cast bronze kettle drum in the world and the largest known relic from Southeast Asia’s Bronze Age period. The locals believe that the Moon of Pejeng is sacred.

“We believe that The Moon would make a sound as a sign that a catastrophic event would take place,” said Dewa Gede Badung. He remembered how The Moon was last heard made a sound in 1965, before the Indonesian grim massacres.

Pusering Jagat temple, on the other hand, is believed to be the center of the old Pejeng Kingdom. The temple attracted devotees who are wishing for fertility and seeking healing powers.

Pejeng would still be my secret village to wind down from the hustle and bustle of Ubud. It was always lovely to talk with the villagers and holy site’s caretakers–listening to the way they embrace ancient wisdom and making meanings out of it in such a modernized world.

As I floated along Lanna’s Lair pool overlooking the jungle, suddenly I felt so insignificantly small. As if I was surrounded by something way much older, way much more ancient, and way much more sacred than all the world’s history I’ve ever known.

What to do in Pejeng

Ask the lovely local staff at Lanna’s Lair to arrange a private cooking class (their Chef used to work in Ubud’s most well-known fine dining restaurant), a melukat trip or other Balinese traditional healing experience, meeting village elders and caretakers, meditation class (including their routine full-moon meditation), bicycle trip around Pejeng’s historical temples and healing sites, and many more! 

hanny
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How do you find story ideas for your travel write-ups? How to write about a place from another angle instead of reporting about what you do on a day-to-day basis? I’ve been asked this question quite often in various occasions, so I thought I could share about it through this post:

1. Follow your curiosity

You are not a cat, so hopefully, you won’t get killed (and even cats have 9 lives!). Have you ever looked at something, heard something, or read about something, and felt curious about a certain thing afterwards? Curiosity is human. We like to ‘sniff around’. We want to know what is happening, we want to know more, we want to know what will happen next. Our mind is full of chatters and questions–even about the most trivial things. The next time you are curious about something, follow it like a detective.

There was this one time around 3 years ago when I watched a TV series, Miss Advised. One of the characters used Craigslist–a listing site, to find herself a date. I was curious whether there were also people posting dating profiles on Craigslist in Indonesia. So I went in. And there were loads of people looking for ‘dates’ on Craigslist, in Jakarta–even just reading their ‘creative’ ads had given me a few hours of uninterrupted fun. Then I asked myself, do people really answer these ads? Does it really work? And so I replied to one of the ads and set myself up for a blind date. The story of the blind date–I’ll keep that for another time!

Stories that may come up: stories about exploration, about your effort in following ‘clues’, about uncovering something, about the challenges in getting the information you need, etc.

2. Keep asking ‘why’ and talk to people

When we travel, there may be many occasions when we realised that we know nothing about something: the way people dress, how they treat each other, their eating habit, the way they treat guests, their local beliefs, about why it seemed like every students in Kazakhstan were always asking me about how many languages do I speak, or about why we would see some old people in Paris walking down the street or sitting in front of a restaurant–talking to themselves.

Of course, we can always shrug our shoulders and let these things pass; or we can always try to understand these ‘unfamiliar’ things by asking people. I talked to a guy working in a villa in Bali, and it turns into this.

Stories that may come up: a feature story about someone you meet/talk to, a conversation with this person, the way he/she left some memories or give valuable life-lessons that are relevant to you, a story about that person and his/her life experience, etc.

3. Observe keenly

Did you still remember the things you see, hear, smell, taste, feel, and think from one of your traveling journeys? Maybe we remember what we saw–more or less, because we took pictures, but most of the times, we forgot the rest. But these small details are like seeds. When we plant, water, and nurture them, when they are ripe, they can burst into stories. To keep a journal on the things you see, hear, smell, taste, feel, and think on your journeys is a great way to keep these seeds. For instance, what is the headline of the local newspaper at the day of your visit?

I overheard a conversation at Musee d’Orsay one time, between a father and his son, and it made its way into this post. I played around with a memory of a city in this post. I wrote down the things I felt as I walked around the small alleys of Santorini, and it became this. I’m not saying they are good stories–but they are short drafts and snippets of what can actually come up from keen observations.

Stories that may come up: a reflection on life based on an overhead dialogue, how a dialogue you overheard reminds you of something–or enlightened you about something, about capturing a spirit of a city or an environment through the local’s conversations, etc.

4. Break your habit

If you’re always staying at a hostel, try a nice hotel when you have enough money. If you’re always staying in a hotel, try an Airbnb space. If you are always following a map, try ditching it. If you are always traveling with friends, try traveling alone. If you’ve never bought souvenirs, buy one. If you’ve always bought souvenirs, buy none. Try to do new things when you travel and break your usual habit. It will feel odd and uncomfortable–two sure signs that you’re about to experience something new. And when we experience something new, we are being introduced to a new story.

From trying out Tinder, having a picnic date with a stranger, dancing with a bunch of policemen, staying with a transgender host, hopping on into a stranger’s car at 4 am in the morning, eating horse meat, to hanging out with a bunch of high school students, each one is a story in itself!

Stories that may come up: challenges you need to face when you’re dealing with unfamiliar territories, the internal conflict of doing things you are unsure about, the way you see a place differently because you change your habit, etc.

5. Try to see things from a neutral ‘place’

Are you opposing arranged marriage? Do you think couples should get married because they love each other–not because of their compatibility towards one another? Do you think it’s shallow for a girl to not want to go to college–and opt for an arranged marriage instead? When we travel, we may see, hear, or experience things that are not in-line with our beliefs or our views of the world. It is easy for us to pass judgement instantly; but things are not always what it seems.

I always thought bitterly about India and its arranged marriage tradition; until I tried to be more open about this and started chatting with an Indian woman–who happily chose an arranged marriage rather than a college life; and with a car-rental driver–who said confidently, that of course–he would choose a compatible husband for her daughter through an arranged marriage! I may still disagree to some extent, but opening up myself to see things from a neutral ‘place’ made me able to understand the underlying reasons behind; and to accept the fact that there are couples who really fall in love after their arranged marriage!

Stories that may come up: unveiling the reasons behind why people act or think a certain way, background about a city/country’s cultural or political history that affects the way they interact or behave with each other, busting myths or breaking the stereotypes about a certain place, etc.

So, are you ready to find your (story) ideas?

hanny
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Hi. I'm HANNY
I am an Indonesian writer/artist/illustrator and stationery web shop owner (Cafe Analog) based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. I love facilitating writing/creative workshops and retreats, especially when they are tied to self-exploration and self-expression. In Indonesian, 'beradadisini' means being here. So, here I am, documenting life—one word at a time.

hanny

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