Saturday, June 23, 2012

Bingin

Stairs to our homestay
All we have to do to get to Bingin is take a small boat from Gili Meno - the nine o'clock - back to Gili
Trawagan, and from there we are shuffled onto the fast boat to Bali. We grab our bags and jump into a car that takes us to Kuta. From there, we split a cab with our new German friend Marion, and we arrive in Bingin just after 4pm. All the hotels seem to be booked, so we head to the beach at the bottom of a very step and inconsistent set of stairs to ask at the homestays. Our room is in an American equivalent of a barn. Large thatched roof with a restaurant downstairs and a row of rooms in the loft. Lest you carry yourself away with romantic notions about spending the night in a barn loft, let me present you with the facts:

Our porch
There is a hole in our floorboards through which we can see the restaurant, there is likewise a hole in the ceiling through which we will become soaked should it decide to rain, our room has walls but no ceiling - the same for our bathroom at the back - which I can tell you means your neighbors can hear everything from a cough to a tinkle, the toilet paper (there's toilet paper!) is held up by a piece of pvc pipe sticking out of the wall, and the toilet must be manually flushed using a large bucket of water next to it (don't ask), I can only be convinced the shower was previously utilized for scrubbing dirt off elephants, and the shelf below the bathroom window is decidedly crooked (except it's not, which means the window above it is very crooked indeed, and we are trying to ignore the fact that this probably means our barn is sliding off the very steep hill we are perched on). However, we can hear the ocean from our bed (which does have a rather romantic mosquito net around it), and have the most beautiful view of it, spying countless surfers catching perfect barrels in 2 feet of warm Indonesian water over a rocky and unforgiving reef.

I am awoken at two in the morning by a pair of young Spanish lovers in the next room, who are actually being quiet, but of course I can hear everything. La, la, la...This barn is one to remember.

Bingin Beach
The surfers here are some breed of crazy. They venture forth at dawn to surf a small but perfect barrel wave just outside our barn, walking in reef booties about 100 meters from shore. The wave rolls over a scant 2 feet of water and sharp, horrible reef. Half of them come out of the water with long jagged cuts from falling on the reef. No thank you.

We walk to Uluwatu one day to check out the temple, and a legendary surf wave. I wouldn't recommend walking there, it's about an hour and a half walk from Bingin. We were too timid to try renting motor bikes after what happened to our neighbor in Lombok. And too cheap to pay a driver. A little exercise is good for you, non? Sweaty and tired, we pause halfway there for some fresh pineapple juice. Yum. The temple is small, but extremely popular for some reason. I think it might be the monkeys - they are everywhere and pop up unexpectedly. Before you go into the temple you pay 20,000rp and wrap yourself in a sarong. Women on their periods are asked to kindly refrain from entering. You are also warned to stow eyeglasses, earrings and anything a monkey might grab.
Sunset view from our porch
The temple is nothing spectacular, but the views are amazing - soaring limestone cliffs and large waves rolling in on the turquoise ocean express to crash up against them. A Dutch couple warns us the monkeys bite (duh), and one of them stole his surfer wax! We look over and see the little guy eating the surf wax. "I guess he thought it smelled good," says the guy, as his girlfriend rubs her nibbled arm.

Dinner is amazing. And the cheapest we've had so far in Indonesia. We head down the stairs to the beach where a collection of tables with candles has been assembled on the sand for enjoyment of the sunset and an après surf Bintang. The sunset is unmatched. The tide is low and the reef sticks up in rocky majesty surrounded by still water that reflects the bright red glow of the sun as it goes down. I get the tuna, caught that day and grilled for me right there on the beach.

Sunset dinner on the beach




The next day we find ourselves kicked out of our homestay. For the best anyway because now we are dying to surf and plan on hitting Padma Beach for a safer, beach break session.

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