The backpacker is a curious breed of traveler. Easily insulted by the accusation that they are simply sightseers, they aspire to be more than someone on vacation. They want to experience the culture and to interact with the locals. But most of all, they want to find that Holy Grail of Backpacking... the TWING (That Which is In No Guidebook). The backpacker dreams of finding that mythical beast, the secret destination that nobody knows about. Well friends, I'm here to tell you a tale of one such beast in the jungles of Bali.
It won't be a short tale. It won't always be an exciting tale. You will likely have to take a bathroom break somewhere in the middle. But like the search for the mythical beast itself, the persistent reader will be rewarded.
Even the grandest tales can have humble beginnings and my tale began at a humble cocktail party. And with a guy named Samuel, who was a friend of a friend. Between the usual cocktail party conversations about life in Bali and where to go out next on a Friday night, he slipped in the following proposal, as casually as one would slip a bookmark into a book. There's a week-long dance party going on in the mountains of North Bali and do you wanna go check it out? Innocuous words. Sure, why not.
It was Friday night when we left. Partially chained to my sofa by the fatigue of a long work week, just making it out of the house seemed a colossal task. Little did I know that it would be the easiest thing I would do all weekend. But how to get there? Our only guide to the destination was one cryptic message:
Was it some sort of ancient code language? Was it a test? How would we know if we passed the right monkeys? What we held in our hands (and of course, by hands I mean smartphone flash memory chips) was a modern-day treasure map which promised treasures to anyone who could unlock its secrets.
Our first test was to be the mountain passes of Bedugul. For visitors accustomed to the tropical shores of Bali, be forewarned that you need a jacket and pants when travelling to Bedugul. It gets cold at night. The mountain pass heading up to Bedugul is a cold, lonely road in the dark, with no companion other than the tingling of your frozen hands and the chattering of your chilly teeth. All the while, hypnotized by the swish-swish-swish rhythm of endless switchbacks.
With time literally frozen, it seemed to take forever just to reach Bedugul. But reach it we did and I kept my eyes peeled for the monkeys, but no such luck. We did, however, pass the lakes and turned left. Before setting off to the party, we needed to check into our hotel in the nearby town of Munduk and this turned out to be our second test.
Before I continue, let me take a minute to rant about one of my all-time top pet peeves. The majority of small Indonesian hotels and restaurants cannot grasp the value of a web presence, despite the fact that one can be had for a couple hundred dollars (or for free if you have the slightest technical skill) and will pay for itself with just a dozen or so new customers. So why is it that even when they do make a website, most of them leave out either their phone number or a map to their location? Seriously, it's like they don't realize that people who want to give them their hard-earned money can't actually do so unless they are physically able to find the place. Rant over.
We had booked a room with the Taman Ayu Homestay in Munduk but the only map we could find was from a booking website which seemed to have randomly placed the map marker somewhere in the general vicinity of Munduk. After mastering the phrase "Permisi pak, saya tersesat...", we finally arrived at Taman Ayu Homestay around 10pm. For those of you following in our footsteps, give yourself a small pat on the back. By reaching the sleepy village of Munduk, you've already gone off the beaten path of most tourists. Ready to plan our next step, we debated if we should try to find the party now, late at night or go in the morning. Fortune favors the bold.
I won't bore you with the details of how bad the directions were. I won't bore you with accounts of how many wrong turns we took and how many times we retraced our steps. I won't bore you with the number of times we stopped to look at Google Maps to argue over which way to go next. Oh sorry, I just did bore you with all that. Anywho... at some point I looked down at my fuel gauge and saw it was squarely below Empty. We had to abandon my bike and ride together, but we lost our nerve after that and turned back home shortly after, returning to our hotel room deflated and exhausted.
The next morning, we asked the hotel staff if they knew where this "Shanti Pala" place was. Only the manager had heard of it and she had no idea where it actually was. We set off to retrace our steps, picking up my bike in the process. With local people actually awake during the day, we had more luck asking around for directions. About a kilometer past where we turned around (yes, we were that close!), at the bottom of a narrow and hilly road we saw a few cars and bikes parked next to the forest where there didn't seem to be any reason for cars and bikes to be parked. No big "Shanti Pala" sign, no "X marks the spot", nothing but one lonely, small white sign that read "Waterfall 1km" which was broken and pointed directly down, giving no hint of which of two paths might be the right one.
With a mental flip of the coin, we hiked into the jungle. After about 500m of dense, dark jungle, the trail opened up into a valley and we could hear the faint sounds of music from the valley floor. We had arrived! Angels sang as though to open the gates of heaven. Ok, not really, but there was pretty trippy music anyway.
After reading so much about our trials and tribulations finding this place, I suppose you have the right to know what it was we actually found. The Sitaram Art Festival was started last year in Bali to celebrate art & music with yoga, meditation and trance dance, etc. In its second year, it still very much catered to a niche crowd. Not to take anything away from the promoters who put on a wonderful event, but the real attraction was the venue.
From what I have been able to discover (which isn't much because there is only one article about Shanti Pala on the entire Internet), this valley used to be called the "Demon Valley" and was shunned by locals who thought it was inhabited by demons. Creepy. About three years ago, some villagers decided to turn the place around and make it a spiritual place for meditation and nature tourism.
The valley itself is surrounded by steep walls on three sides, with a large waterfall at the top of the valley, which feeds into a charming creek crisscrossed by bamboo bridges. Even by lush Bali standards, the lushest vegetation and flowers surround you, and I even had difficulty identifying some plants. As I write this, I hesitate to even post pictures which can only serve to mislead the reader as to the true beauty of this place. I have watched the sun rise from the top of a volcano, I have dived from the spectacular cliffs of Nusa Ceningan, I have swum with manta rays, sharks & turtles but I can honestly say this is one of the most beautiful places I have been to in Bali.
As I left Shanti Pala, I could have sworn that villagers by the side of the road smiled at me and gave me a knowing nod, as though to say "Congratulations, traveler, you did it." Indeed, I did. Om Swastiastu.
I would also like to take a second to thank the staff at Taman Ayu Homestay. They were super-friendly and helpful, and the hotel itself was a charming place and a great value at 150k IDR, which I would recommend to any traveler stopping in Munduk. And this is one map I will be happy to post :)
Map of Taman Ayu Homestay
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| Ganesh guards the entrance |
Even the grandest tales can have humble beginnings and my tale began at a humble cocktail party. And with a guy named Samuel, who was a friend of a friend. Between the usual cocktail party conversations about life in Bali and where to go out next on a Friday night, he slipped in the following proposal, as casually as one would slip a bookmark into a book. There's a week-long dance party going on in the mountains of North Bali and do you wanna go check it out? Innocuous words. Sure, why not.
It was Friday night when we left. Partially chained to my sofa by the fatigue of a long work week, just making it out of the house seemed a colossal task. Little did I know that it would be the easiest thing I would do all weekend. But how to get there? Our only guide to the destination was one cryptic message:
From down south, go Direction Bedugul>>>
Up Bedugul passed the monkeys and the lakes on left side...turn left,
pass Munduk till splitting go left ,
into #########, pass it,
from here on yellow signs
left “##### #####”,
T point left ### #####,
board “waterfall 3km”!!!
again board 2 km, right
till the BENGKEL village, turn left till waterfall 1km!!!
Was it some sort of ancient code language? Was it a test? How would we know if we passed the right monkeys? What we held in our hands (and of course, by hands I mean smartphone flash memory chips) was a modern-day treasure map which promised treasures to anyone who could unlock its secrets.
Our first test was to be the mountain passes of Bedugul. For visitors accustomed to the tropical shores of Bali, be forewarned that you need a jacket and pants when travelling to Bedugul. It gets cold at night. The mountain pass heading up to Bedugul is a cold, lonely road in the dark, with no companion other than the tingling of your frozen hands and the chattering of your chilly teeth. All the while, hypnotized by the swish-swish-swish rhythm of endless switchbacks.
With time literally frozen, it seemed to take forever just to reach Bedugul. But reach it we did and I kept my eyes peeled for the monkeys, but no such luck. We did, however, pass the lakes and turned left. Before setting off to the party, we needed to check into our hotel in the nearby town of Munduk and this turned out to be our second test.
Before I continue, let me take a minute to rant about one of my all-time top pet peeves. The majority of small Indonesian hotels and restaurants cannot grasp the value of a web presence, despite the fact that one can be had for a couple hundred dollars (or for free if you have the slightest technical skill) and will pay for itself with just a dozen or so new customers. So why is it that even when they do make a website, most of them leave out either their phone number or a map to their location? Seriously, it's like they don't realize that people who want to give them their hard-earned money can't actually do so unless they are physically able to find the place. Rant over.
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| The restaurant at Taman Ayu |
I won't bore you with the details of how bad the directions were. I won't bore you with accounts of how many wrong turns we took and how many times we retraced our steps. I won't bore you with the number of times we stopped to look at Google Maps to argue over which way to go next. Oh sorry, I just did bore you with all that. Anywho... at some point I looked down at my fuel gauge and saw it was squarely below Empty. We had to abandon my bike and ride together, but we lost our nerve after that and turned back home shortly after, returning to our hotel room deflated and exhausted.
 |
| You can just make out the campsite |
From what I have been able to discover (which isn't much because there is only one article about Shanti Pala on the entire Internet), this valley used to be called the "Demon Valley" and was shunned by locals who thought it was inhabited by demons. Creepy. About three years ago, some villagers decided to turn the place around and make it a spiritual place for meditation and nature tourism.
 |
| A river runs through it |
EPILOGUE
No, I won't post a map location of where Shanti Pala is. Call me a selfish bastard if you want but I just won't do it, so don't ask. Of course, if you know me personally, please send me a message and I will be happy to give you the best directions I can. A smartphone with GPS will be invaluable. But I can't guarantee what will happen once you get there. The event we were at was sanctioned by the banjar, but I doubt you can normally just walk into the valley and hang out. I am sure someone can give you permission to be there but I have no idea who. Try asking the banjar first, they can at least point you in the right direction.I would also like to take a second to thank the staff at Taman Ayu Homestay. They were super-friendly and helpful, and the hotel itself was a charming place and a great value at 150k IDR, which I would recommend to any traveler stopping in Munduk. And this is one map I will be happy to post :)
Map of Taman Ayu Homestay
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