Bali Highlands And Coffee Plantations - Day 1. Getting there.

It's 10pm.  I'm presently coccooned in four walls of mosquito net, have a bellyful of Bintang beer, and am trying to ignore the competing sounds of chirruping crickets and what must be the local band of traditional Balinese musicians trying their damnedest to damage their gong-like instruments with coffee-fueled gusto. Oh... as I write, the local stray mutt has decided to take the mic. Oh cripes, now some sort of froggy creature has joined the chorus too! This should be an interesting sleep.

Starbucks in Ubud, Bali. Selling coffee grown in Bali. 
Unfortunately they fly it to the USA to roast it,
and then back to Bali again!

Munduk. A tiny village in the North of the island.  Too far from the surf to appeal to the Aussies of Blackpool-esque Kuta Beach. Too rural for the comfort-seekers of Ubud and their daily 90 minute treatment spa packages.  Munduk remains relatively undiscovered.  As a visitor you're something of a celebrity amongst the gazing locals.

Earlier today my wife Jan and I hired scooters in Ubud, leaving everything at the hotel except cameras and minimal clothes, and set off.  Following a sketchy map drawn by the hotel porter we headed roughly North, occasionally steered by the pointing fingers of bemused locals unaccustomed to tourists seeking such an unassuming destination as Munduk.

I should point out here that countless backpackers do post on travel forums seeking tips on finding the 'real' Bali, or 'hidden gems'. But usually the response from more seasoned travellers is "if we told you, they wouldn't be hidden any more!"  Those privy to such places are loathe to share details for fear that increased tourism will ultimately steal the jewel in the hidden treasure, as it so often does.  I feel like The Masked Magician revealing Munduk's secret, but as this post is aimed at coffee lovers rather than travel fans I sheepishly tell myself it's ok.

A very cool bike in Ubud.

After maybe two hours of dodging potholes and policemen (I failed to obtain the requisite International Driving Permit before leaving the UK...oops!) the road began to climb and the temperature fall, surprisingly swiftly . Freshly sunkissed forearms from the blistering scooter ride were soon hugged by thick fleecey tops.  Rice terraces appeared, taking advantage of the steep slopes either side of the road, which itself had begun to snake left and right in its ascent. Being on a bike was really paying off now.  The thrill of leaning into an uphill bend is only slightly bettered by the rush of accellerating out of it, even on naff 120cc auto scooters like ours.

Coinciding with the changing environment was an immediate increase in signs for coffee sales. "Kopi Luwak Here" etc. It is claimed to be the worlds highest priced coffee due to it being made from coffee beans retrieved from the poo of the palm civet (which for the record is nothing like a cat!).  I'm intrigued, but insist I would only try it if the seller could assure me that no civets had been force-fed or such like.

Bali Coffee at Lake Bratan

So we were in the highlands. Arabica altitude.  We soon reached Danau Bratan, a crater-lake in the centre of an extinct volcano, and I asked for a coffee. Too impatient to wait for an in depth discussion with a coffee plantation owner, I quizzed the cafe waiter about his coffee. Waste of time, it seemed. They serve what everywhere serves on the island, the "Bali Coffee" label. It came. Actually it was better than any I'd had in Ubud, really quite sweet. The waiter told me that it was fresh, and also freshly ground (he made the action of using a pestle and mortar. At least, I hope that was the hand sign!).

Lake Tamblingan

Onwards we continued, through strawberry plantations, a faint whiff of agriculture, and families of monkeys sitting by the roadside hoping to catch scraps of food thrown out of passing cars. We refilled the tanks on the bikes a second time. The day was getting old. The sun reappeared just as we reached the ridge of the mountains, and we traced a path along the top, heading westwards towards the sunset.  What an incredible route, looking down on Lake Tamblingan and across to more mountains. I'd rate this unknown little track above world renowned routes like The Great Ocean Drive in Oz, California's Highway 101, or London's M25 (just kidding!).

Sunset at Munduk

Eventually the road slinked down into Munduk, and we started wondering where we could stay. I wanted to find a local family who worked on a coffee plantation. A young guy matched his bike's pace with mine and called over "Hello sir. You look for homestay? I have place." His name was Made (pronounced mah-day), which means 'second son'.  We followed him to the place, and decided it was perfect. Clean and cheap, with plenty of geckos to eat all the mosquitos.

Tomorrow is the big coffee tour day. Made has coffee trees in his garden, and a friend who can demonstrate the processing of coffee in this region. So let's how that pans out.  That's if the noise outside our bedroom ever stops and we get any sleep! Now there are about ten dogs howling at the moon. Hidden gem my arse.