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Saturday, September 4, 2010

Boo Ubud

The saddest art gallery ever. 

I remember learning as a little kid that if you do not have a lot of nice things to say, it is best not to say them at all. Thus, today’s blog post will be short.

Ubud sucks.

I felt it obligatory that we go, even after having been forewarned about just how touristy it is, but it was actually worse than expected. We set off this morning to go to Sidemen road and do some early morning trekking in the rice terraces. Unfortunately, it was difficult to locate a guide and it was pouring down ride. We took a beautiful ride, but, in the end, had to leave the Sidemen area without doing any trekking.

The start of the trek was a paved path, which we complained about until it turned into a busy road!

As a plan B, I figured we could go to Ubud early and do one of the treks around there. Trek is, I suppose, a loosely used word. Is it trekking if it is done on a road!?!?! We did an 8km loop around what is supposed to be some of the more beautiful scenery around Ubud and, especially compared to yesterday, were very unimpressed.


Okay, so there were a few spots that looked lovely. 

We stopped in some temples and went to some outlying villages, but it was not even that it was too touristy as much as it simple wasn’t as nice. We longed to get out of there. So, we booked it back down to Ubud, visited the palace (where we were still fairly unimpressed) and then started to make our way out of there.

Ibu Oka warung.

Pig, pig and more pig. 

However, there was one final stuff. Back to our sheer love of food and of Anthony Bourdain, we had to stop at Ibu Oka Babi Guleng. Babi Guleng is whole spit-roasted pig stuffed with ginger and several other Balinese spices. We indulged ourselves in delicious crispy flesh, fried face, blood sausage and some fantastic roast meat. It actually redeemed the rest of Ubud.

On the way back to our section of East Bali we actually stopped for seconds of Babi Guleng at a warung in Gianyar famous for some of the best Babi Guleng in Bali. Making the comparison, Ibu Oka was better, but only marginally so.

Stuffed with enough pig fat for a life time, it was to the antique shop again to pick up our wares and then to the villa. Looking out at the ocean now in our tranquil spot, I wonder why we ever ventured out. 

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