Milano Day Spa
After a long long wait, I’ve finally made it to a day spa! Milano’s down on Jl Monkey Forest, is a favourite with the local expat ladies. Offering everything from manicures to massages, the spa is good value and clean. Today I was having the classic combo – manicure, pedicure and creambath (nourishing cream is worked slowly into the hair, followed by a blissful scalp, shoulder and arm massage). I was attended by three therapists and spent 2 hours being pampered Bali style. All for less than $30! Heaven.
Wednesday, December 17
Sunday, December 14
Potholes, motorbikes and Doggies oh my!
There are three things you need when you attempt to drive in Bali – patience, a sense of humour and most importantly steel cohones. Its pretty much taking your own life in your own hands and today’s adventure was the perfect example of the perils faced when you get on the roads here. For some reason no matter how many times I’ve been on this particular route down to the beach from Ubud, I can not manage to get there without getting completely and utterly lost. I found myself motoring along with fingers crossed that I wouldn’t end up on the other side of the island by the end of it. Dodging suicidal motorbike swarms, dogs sauntering casually across the bitumen (that’s when they can even be bothered moving), crater like potholes and especially for today, ceremonies galore.
Unbeknownst to me, today was a really important date on the Balinese religious calendar and everywhere along the roads the temples were spilling over with villagers dressed in their best kebayas (traditional Balinese formal wear, a lacy long sleeved top for the ladies and starched white jackets for the men, both paired with sarongs). At one point a whole congregation were seated in the middle of a major intersection, attending prayers led by a priest. I had to drive excruciatingly slow, weaving through the kneeling crowds all with closed palms up in prayer to …the road gods?... as the religious police directed the traffic around the assembly.
By this time I had discovered that the car came with a charming odour of throw up which curiously only became stronger as I opened the windows, and conversely almost disappeared when I turned the AC on. Gagging, struggling with sticky gears and faulty window controls, I bumped and weaved along the road when for some reason I’d decided to stop following instinct and follow the road signs (always of dubious accuracy) to Kuta. I ended up down a tiny road, which was blocked abruptly by another temple ceremony. So, quick u-turn later I was back on the original path vowing never to follow another sign in Bali. I did eventually make it to the coast, only to be stuck in a traffic jam (in Bali?!!) on the bypass. At one particularly long red light, I discovered a little stowaway – a gecko had decided enough was enough and crawled up the windscreen to see what the hold up was. There really is definitely nothing like driving in Bali.
There are three things you need when you attempt to drive in Bali – patience, a sense of humour and most importantly steel cohones. Its pretty much taking your own life in your own hands and today’s adventure was the perfect example of the perils faced when you get on the roads here. For some reason no matter how many times I’ve been on this particular route down to the beach from Ubud, I can not manage to get there without getting completely and utterly lost. I found myself motoring along with fingers crossed that I wouldn’t end up on the other side of the island by the end of it. Dodging suicidal motorbike swarms, dogs sauntering casually across the bitumen (that’s when they can even be bothered moving), crater like potholes and especially for today, ceremonies galore.
Unbeknownst to me, today was a really important date on the Balinese religious calendar and everywhere along the roads the temples were spilling over with villagers dressed in their best kebayas (traditional Balinese formal wear, a lacy long sleeved top for the ladies and starched white jackets for the men, both paired with sarongs). At one point a whole congregation were seated in the middle of a major intersection, attending prayers led by a priest. I had to drive excruciatingly slow, weaving through the kneeling crowds all with closed palms up in prayer to …the road gods?... as the religious police directed the traffic around the assembly.
By this time I had discovered that the car came with a charming odour of throw up which curiously only became stronger as I opened the windows, and conversely almost disappeared when I turned the AC on. Gagging, struggling with sticky gears and faulty window controls, I bumped and weaved along the road when for some reason I’d decided to stop following instinct and follow the road signs (always of dubious accuracy) to Kuta. I ended up down a tiny road, which was blocked abruptly by another temple ceremony. So, quick u-turn later I was back on the original path vowing never to follow another sign in Bali. I did eventually make it to the coast, only to be stuck in a traffic jam (in Bali?!!) on the bypass. At one particularly long red light, I discovered a little stowaway – a gecko had decided enough was enough and crawled up the windscreen to see what the hold up was. There really is definitely nothing like driving in Bali.
The Princess is home
Home is made up of a series of buildings - what we call a compound really. At our front gate a large Buddha statue sits in a protective cove, performing the double task of welcoming visitors as well as concealing the sanctuary within. As you walk around the statue, the first series of buildings are revealed. My father’s quarters to the left, the laundry and villa office to the right and the large open living room directly ahead. A short path curves around a small bamboo and pebble garden and takes you to the main entrance of the bale (Balinese open living space). A raised platform topped with thin mattresses and scatter cushions runs along the only half wall of the building, leading the eye up to the slightly elevated dining area and kitchen up to the left. The raised lounge is the very best spot in the compound, what Dad likes to call his “power spot”. You can sit there all day, gaze at the sprawling gardens, listen to the bubbling waters of the lotus ponds and contemplate your belly button. As long as you slap on enough mozzie repellent!
The garden also holds the lap pool and guest rooms - which, when not occupied by the princess are rented out. I love my rooms, ridiculously soft and comfy king size bed complete with romantic hanging mozzie nets, bathroom suite and a little front patio. I’m always so enthusiastic about morning laps, yoga in the sun etc when I first arrive. That is until I fall completely into a lazy lifestyle and am quickly over it, preferring to veg out in the living room and absorbing all the green. I love the familiar sounds, doves cooing, water bubbling, chickens crowing and the occasional temple drums or gamelan (Balinese orchestra) carried from the village across the ravine at the back of our property. Ahh, bliss… time to let my mind unravel and let it all in.
Well here we are again. I’ve come home to Bali after yet another life changing series of events. Its seems every time things start to go pear shaped, I run back to my island home to regroup before I can go out and attack life again. I was to be picked up at the airport by dad’s new driver, who I had never met. So I was vaguely curious when I got off the plane as how it was all going to work out. Once I’d drifted out the arrival doors I was met with the usual throng of pushy punters and hotel drivers all eyeing me expectantly. I was ever so grateful that he had thought to bring a sign with him… Miss H has arrived!
My dads house – the only permanent/unchanging address I’ve had since aged 5 - has unfortunately been sold and this may be my last chance to come home to this wonderful haven. I’ve made it my mission to soak up as much of the experience as possible, knowing any future visits home will just not be the same.
Home is made up of a series of buildings - what we call a compound really. At our front gate a large Buddha statue sits in a protective cove, performing the double task of welcoming visitors as well as concealing the sanctuary within. As you walk around the statue, the first series of buildings are revealed. My father’s quarters to the left, the laundry and villa office to the right and the large open living room directly ahead. A short path curves around a small bamboo and pebble garden and takes you to the main entrance of the bale (Balinese open living space). A raised platform topped with thin mattresses and scatter cushions runs along the only half wall of the building, leading the eye up to the slightly elevated dining area and kitchen up to the left. The raised lounge is the very best spot in the compound, what Dad likes to call his “power spot”. You can sit there all day, gaze at the sprawling gardens, listen to the bubbling waters of the lotus ponds and contemplate your belly button. As long as you slap on enough mozzie repellent!
The garden also holds the lap pool and guest rooms - which, when not occupied by the princess are rented out. I love my rooms, ridiculously soft and comfy king size bed complete with romantic hanging mozzie nets, bathroom suite and a little front patio. I’m always so enthusiastic about morning laps, yoga in the sun etc when I first arrive. That is until I fall completely into a lazy lifestyle and am quickly over it, preferring to veg out in the living room and absorbing all the green. I love the familiar sounds, doves cooing, water bubbling, chickens crowing and the occasional temple drums or gamelan (Balinese orchestra) carried from the village across the ravine at the back of our property. Ahh, bliss… time to let my mind unravel and let it all in.
Sunday, October 12
Pavlova!
Yep, I finally did it. Made my very own fluffy egg-white masterpiece. I didn't chicken out and run out to Woollies to grab the ready made stuff - although being as the shops were closed by the time I'd decided on what to make, I didn't really have the option.
I'd always wanted to make one, but hearing all the stories of woe (collapse/runniness/burning/not resembling merinque in any shape or form) kinda put me off a bit but in the end necessity won out. I basically didn't have ingredients for anything else, and since I was put on dessert duty for a dinner with friends, I was desperate! As usual I scoured the net for recipes and came across a really really simple recipe....and changed it a bit. In the end I used:
3 eggwhites, at room temperature
2/3 cup caster sugar (kinda cheated this, didn't have caster so I smashed some white sugar in my pestle and viola! took some muscle but same same la)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups passionfruit yoghurt
8 large strawberries, hulled, sliced
2 bananas sliced into thin circles
1 tablespoon honey
Don't really understand the science behind this but basically if you don't get the egg at room temperature, you're doomed. Learnt that one from an unfortunate meringue experience.
Where were we? Oh right:
1. Preheat oven to 150' (thats supposed to be degrees, don't know how to get the symbol) celcius. Have a large tray ready with some baking paper.
2. Beat the egg whites until you get soft peaks. Your call to use hand-mixer or just hand. Personally I'd go with the mixer unless you've got hulk-like muscles and have a lot of time on your...hands. Sorry....Gradually add the sugar a teaspoon at a time while beating until you have a lovely glossy texture. You'll know when this happens as you'll feel a ridiculous sense of pride and awe at self. Fold in the vanilla.
3. Spoon the eggies into 2 equal rectangles on the tray (here's the tricky part. My web instructions had me measuring and drawing on the paper, but who has the patience? I went right in and ended up flubbing around pushing and spreading, standing back to eye the 2 pieces, flubbing some more until I was satisfied they were kinda close to being the same size. But that's just me.) Bake for 40 minutes. Turn the oven off, leave the door open to cool and stand back to again feel that ridiculous sense of pride and awe at your creation. Let cool for about an hour till its all nice and crunchy.
4. Spread one of the rectangles with half the yoghurt. Top with strawberries and bananas. Place the remaining meringue on top and repeat the yoghurt and banana business. Drizzle with honey. Admire.
Serves 6. Well we had 5 and consenquently had to fight it out for the remaining piece.
Yummmmm!
Yep, I finally did it. Made my very own fluffy egg-white masterpiece. I didn't chicken out and run out to Woollies to grab the ready made stuff - although being as the shops were closed by the time I'd decided on what to make, I didn't really have the option.
I'd always wanted to make one, but hearing all the stories of woe (collapse/runniness/burning/not resembling merinque in any shape or form) kinda put me off a bit but in the end necessity won out. I basically didn't have ingredients for anything else, and since I was put on dessert duty for a dinner with friends, I was desperate! As usual I scoured the net for recipes and came across a really really simple recipe....and changed it a bit. In the end I used:
3 eggwhites, at room temperature
2/3 cup caster sugar (kinda cheated this, didn't have caster so I smashed some white sugar in my pestle and viola! took some muscle but same same la)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups passionfruit yoghurt
8 large strawberries, hulled, sliced
2 bananas sliced into thin circles
1 tablespoon honey
Don't really understand the science behind this but basically if you don't get the egg at room temperature, you're doomed. Learnt that one from an unfortunate meringue experience.
Where were we? Oh right:
1. Preheat oven to 150' (thats supposed to be degrees, don't know how to get the symbol) celcius. Have a large tray ready with some baking paper.
2. Beat the egg whites until you get soft peaks. Your call to use hand-mixer or just hand. Personally I'd go with the mixer unless you've got hulk-like muscles and have a lot of time on your...hands. Sorry....Gradually add the sugar a teaspoon at a time while beating until you have a lovely glossy texture. You'll know when this happens as you'll feel a ridiculous sense of pride and awe at self. Fold in the vanilla.
3. Spoon the eggies into 2 equal rectangles on the tray (here's the tricky part. My web instructions had me measuring and drawing on the paper, but who has the patience? I went right in and ended up flubbing around pushing and spreading, standing back to eye the 2 pieces, flubbing some more until I was satisfied they were kinda close to being the same size. But that's just me.) Bake for 40 minutes. Turn the oven off, leave the door open to cool and stand back to again feel that ridiculous sense of pride and awe at your creation. Let cool for about an hour till its all nice and crunchy.
4. Spread one of the rectangles with half the yoghurt. Top with strawberries and bananas. Place the remaining meringue on top and repeat the yoghurt and banana business. Drizzle with honey. Admire.
Serves 6. Well we had 5 and consenquently had to fight it out for the remaining piece.
Yummmmm!
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