Circumnavigating the globe has afforded many benefits to my little family and has allowed me to further my quest for the world’s best cup of coffee which continued in Bali. After perusing the shelves and colorful chalkboard menus at Starbucks and other purveyors of fine coffee in America, one would think that traveling to the source countries of some of the exotic grounds brewed and sold would result in an always available, bottomless cup of rich brew, but that’s just not the case. I’ve discovered that most people in the world drink some form of instant coffee, usually produced by Nescafe and sold as a “3 in 1,” which is an individual packet of instant coffee, creamer, and sugar and a sad substitute for a cup of real coffee. Indonesia produces some of the world’s finest beans, but they are reserved primarily for export while citizens and budget-conscious tourists suffer deprivation at the hands of Nescafe and the resorts who sell the good stuff for ten dollars a cup. At least now I can say that traveling to Bali produced an opportunity for me to consume a cup of joe brewed from the grounds of beans that spent some time undergoing complicated chemical reactions in the digestive tract of a cute, furry mammal.
The island of Bali is 150 kilometers long and 100 kilometers wide so one might believe that touring a large portion of the land is possible within a small timespan. We were under this impression until an ambitious touring plan proved otherwise during a day of discovery and frustration. Our host sent a couple of guys over to the house to fix a small electrical problem, and since one of them spoke English well, we enjoyed talking with him. His name was Kung, he and his wife own a small homestay in our village, and he provides transport for tourists as a side business. One thing led to another, and we hired him to take us north for a day in order to spend time in the central region of the island, which is famous for thick jungles and terraced rice paddies. We put together a wishlist of places to visit ending with a trip to one of the exotic beaches on the east side of the island not far from our village in which we planned to enjoy an early supper before heading home.
Kung picked us up at 9:00 the following morning, and we began making our way north toward the Ubud region of Bali which on the map didn’t look all that far away. We seemed to make good time bobbing our heads back and forth to the excellent variety of music on our driver’s phone. We stopped briefly at a batik workshop and watched a group of talented locals produce beautiful scenes on cloth using a wax resist form of dye application unique to this area of Indonesia. From the workshop, we continued north toward the Tegenungan waterfall, but by the time we arrived, it was almost lunchtime, and half the day was shot just sitting in the car. We began to realize that even though the distances between points in Bali are physically short, narrow roads cut through densely populated areas make for agonizingly long drives, and of course, none of the tourist brochures or websites highlight this fact anywhere in their lists of attributes.
Kung dropped us off at the entrance to the waterfall, and we made our way down a slowly descending dirt road lined with small souvenir shops and restaurants. The area was busy with tourists, but it wasn’t overly crowded, and there was an energetic vibe in the steamy jungle air as we made our way to the steep stairs leading to the river. Tegenungan is one of the most easily accessible waterfalls in Bali and one of the most impressive with a thundering plume several stories high that creates air thick with mist as it empties into a large pool below. The dense jungle that surrounds the waterfall makes for striking scene visible only in certain parts of the world, and splashing in the cool, refreshing water of the pool was a nice respite from the morning spent on the road. The hike back up the stairs was no easy chore; we needed ice cream bars to recover before we piled back in the car to keep heading north.
An hour later, we entered the Ubud region, which is home to many local craftsmen skilled in the art of intricate woodcarving, ceramics, and silversmithing. We passed scores of shops with rows of crafts on display, and Kung told us that the majority of the goods are exported all over the world with the leftovers scooped up by the tourists. The standard of living for the locals is higher in the Ubud region due to the money generated by the artisans and farmers who rely heavily on the steady flow of tourists year-round. The temples and shrines are more plentiful and decorative in this region, and every business and residence displays an ornate spirit house, full of flower offerings and ever-present burning incense.
We made it to the town center of Ubud in the heart of the terraced rice paddies, where we had an amazing lunch of traditional Balinese dishes including seasoned chicken with noodles, crisp cucumbers, and fresh sliced tomatoes that were juicy and full of flavor. Our table was by the rail of the open air restaurant overlooking a small valley traversed with rice paddies that looked like a giant green fingerprint. The valley was dotted with coconut palms, groves of banana trees, and workers in traditional conical straw hats who tended the paddies using sharp curved knives to remove patches of weeds while tourists filed by on narrow paths taking pictures. After lunch, we walked down one of the trails for some pictures of our own before the oppressive humidity in the valley forced us back up to street level and into Kung’s car with the air conditioner on full blast. By this time, it was nearly 3:00, and we realized that we weren’t going to make it to the beach that day, but I still wanted to try the local coffee before heading back home.
Kopi Luwak is one of the most expensive types of coffee sold in the world going for about thirty-five dollars a cup in good coffee shops, and with only about a thousand pounds being produced every year, one pound sells for as high as six-hundred dollars. So what makes this coffee so special? Here’s the poop: looking like a cross between a foxes and a lemurs, civet cats, or luwaks, as they’re called in Indonesia, eat the ripest coffee cherries which they crave as the main staple of their diet. They then defecate the seeds which we know as coffee beans. The beans go through a rigorous cleaning process in which the hulls are removed by hand; then the beans are roasted dark brown and ground to a fine powder ready for brewing. The acids in the civet cat’s digestive system create a unique form of fermentation which gives the coffee its exclusive flavor and high price tag due to the distinctive method of processing the beans.
The Ubud region produces some of the best kopi luwak, and it’s available at some of the small farms along the road with the opportunity to sample a cup at a reasonable price. Kung took us to a farm not far from the center of town that had a good reputation for humane treatment of the civet cats and excellent coffee. We were able to see some of these cute little coffee-eatin’ critters, and their lively behavior in the cage was attributed to earlier consumption of a fresh batch of coffee cherries. The workers there walked us through the entire process from collecting the poop considered to be like gold to the farmer, to the roasting and grinding process which filled the whole place with a smoky, nutty aroma.
There were several tables inside a covered pavillion deep in the shady jungle foliage where we sat, and I bought a cup of freshly brewed kopi luwak for about five dollars to determine my opinion while the rest of my crew sampled an array of teas and other herb-infused beverages. So, was the coffee any good? Smooth? Check. Rich? Check. Balanced? Check. Lingering finish with a compelling taste requiring another sip pronto? Checka, checka, check. Yep, this brew was excellent, and I felt like it lived up to all the hype, so why didn’t I buy a couple of expensive pounds to ship home? It seems that during the fermenting process in the civet’s intestines, a good deal of caffeine is removed, and while that may be a boon to the luwak, it’s a deal breaker for me. As much as I love the rich, slightly bitter flavor of finely prepared coffee, without that heady, full powered jolt of caffeine, I might as well be drinking hot Kool-aid. My coffee quest continues, and that’s all I have to say about that.
Civet cat
The process from poo to brew
At 4:00, we were hot, tired and ready to head home. Kung did his best to deliver us in a timely manner, but it still took about three hours to reach the border of our province due to brutal traffic going back in the other direction. He dropped us off at a pizza place near our house, and we finished our day with a couple of cheese pies with thin, crispy crusts baked in a brick oven. We shared ice-cold cokes in glass mugs with beads of condensation dripping down the sides and talked about our day as we decompressed from all those hours in the car.
We spent the next day at home in and out of the pool while the kids continued their testing, but we took breaks to walk into the village for meals. Kung told us that he would be glad to take us to some pretty beaches closer to home for a half day or so, and we contacted him to set it up for the next day. My love of our house in Bali grew deeper every day: the open-air construction made it feel like we were camping in the tropics; the secluded pool right off the front porch was just so darn nice; and after a week, we almost didn’t notice the bugs, mice, and lizards. No matter where one sits in southeast Asia, a quick glance in any direction reveals the presence of a basking lizard, every single time.
Kung picked us up at 2:00 the next afternoon and thirty minutes later, we were descending three-hundred concrete block steps through a jungle covered mountainside to aptly named Karma Beach. Giant boulders of pocked volcanic rock looked like they had been placed perfectly by giants in the golden sand as the clear, tourmaline-colored sea swirled around the edge of the shore. We bobbed up and down in the warm surf looking back at the jungle in disbelief as we spent a couple hours in this beautiful place. We got to know Kung a little better as he told us stories about life on Bali with his wife and three-year-old daughter, London, named after the host city of his beloved Arsenal football club. Kung spared us the arduous walk back up the stairs and had us stroll a kilometer down the seashore to Melasti Beach, where he picked us up and drove on to Padang Padang Beach located on the western side of our peninsula and home to world-class surfing competitions.
Upon arrival, we had to wait out thousands of white-sarong-clad villagers parading back from the seashore carrying intricately carved Hindu figures on their heads and baskets woven from palm fronds containing thick bunches of marigolds and purple orchids. According to Kung, they had just finished an all-day festival of food, prayer, and fellowship in preparation for the day of silence observed by all of Bali on Tuesday of next week. We made our way down to the beach, which was more like an intimate cove with high cliffs all around and a tremendous breaking surf about three-hundred meters from the shore. We laid out a towel under one of the cliff faces and took turns wading in the warm water and watching Kung catch waves on his surfboard for an hour or so until the light of the day began fading.
We had hoped to end the afternoon watching the sunset at a nearby cliffside temple, but dark clouds collected quickly and a heavy rain set in as we drove back toward our village. Kung dropped us off at a restaurant that he highly recommended while he went to check on his homestay guests. We had a delicious dinner of roast pork, tangy macaroni and cheese, and crisp salad dripping with rich olive oil. When Kung delivered us home through flooded streets, we thanked him for a great afternoon and finished up the day with one more pool session as the rain abated for a while.
Storms moved through Bali overnight, and heavy rain continued through mid morning on our last day at Boulevard 66, and I sat writing for most of it as I looked out at the rivulets of water dripping off the giant elephant ear plants in the courtyard while a cool, refreshing breeze blew in steadily keeping the mosquitoes at bay. We had planned to travel an hour north to the town of Kuta in order to attend church and walk on one more beach, but the weather kept us home, and I’m not too disappointed since we got to spend more time with each other in this house that we’ll never forget. After the rain tapered off in the afternoon, Deena and I managed to sneak off on the motor scooter for a date at the coffee shop up the road, and it was a fun and relaxing way to wrap up our time in the village. We’ve had a lot of adventures on Bali including an earthquake that the locals are calling a "pretty good shake," mouse episodes, motor-scooter learning curves, drive times, and scenery so beautiful it was almost incomprehensible. We laughed and talked over meals and fun times spent in the pool out front, and while we continue to learn that most places are vastly different from what we read about and expect, the elements of surprise and wonder ensure that the memories we share are uniquely crafted and custom made just for my little family.
Our pool shrine
Was the coffee "a bit nutty"?
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