We're a week away from our first holiday since moving to Bali and I wanted to write a little about our initial experiences in the hopes that it will be useful or interesting for those wanting to move here who don't have a lot of resources. I've tried to provide details of costs and services we used where appropriate. We had neither money or opportunity when we decided to move, but we made it work, and I'm sure others could do the same.

Background

A year ago Doug and I were living in Melbourne, and had only been back 12 months after nearly 2 years travelling in Asia, the Middle East and North Africa. We just weren't cut out for the city anymore and even though we both had decent jobs and a nice apartment, we felt stifled and somewhat unhappy with our lifestyle. We were spending a fortune on short breaks, and we'd just completed a 4 week sailing trip in Indonesia's eastern islands and had stopped for a day in Bali on the way home. We were eating in a restaurant in Ubud and I noticed Doug smiling around him - looking young and happy and totally comfortable. He told me he had always wished he could live in Bali and I decided then and there that was what we were going to do.

Unfortunately all that travel had left us pretty light on financially. We didn't have the money to just get up and go, so I had to think of a way to make it happen. I approached the owner of the web development company I was working for in Melbourne, offering to take a significant pay cut to be able to continue my work for the company remotely. He turned me down, but he did offer me the possibility of working out of a satellite office in Bali and managing some programmers that they could outsource work to. He stressed that it would be an experiment, and there was a distinct possibility it might not work and I would be left without a job in Bali. I took him up on the offer anyway - no reward without risk...

Postcards from Meno

After hearing about them for years, we finally made it to the Gili Islands, which lie just off the north west coast of Lombok. Gili means small island in Indonesian and that's exactly what they are: Tiny flecks of sand gathered around the high points of a drowned ridge, a remaining finger of which points toward the islands from the Lombok mainland to almost touch Gili Air.

Most folks seem to head for Gili Trawangan, the largest of the islands which sports a well developed party scene. Friends have said Trawangan reminds them of Kuta 20 years ago, but we were after a laid back four day break from work and so opted for the adjacent Gili Meno which promised peace and quiet, white sandy beaches and good snorkelling.

It's a long boat ride from Bali's Benoa Harbour to Bangsal Harbour on Lombok, where the fast boats have to call to register the passengers they're taking to the islands. Once there though, it's a quick hop across the water to Gili Trawangan where the fun begins.

Swathed in black and white checked cloth, the bole of the ancient tree  receives the flicked blessings of sanctified water. The drops sparkle in the glare of fluorescent light as they arc from the frangipani flower held between the priest's fingers. They kiss the contorted tree, darkly smudging the pale complexion of the tree's cracked skin. The tree drinks them up, absorbing their import and their mark fades as the tree takes their offering to its heart.

Wreathed in the smoke of sweet incense, bathed in the rhythm of the drum and gamelan, the tree spreads its sheltering canopy over the men, women and children of the Kulibul banjar as it has for ever. No one knows its age. The oldest banjar members have no stories of a time when the tree's branches could be reached by an upraised arm.

Before this paved banjar courtyard, before the  temple, long before the adjacent road and its traffic which necessitates the placement of signs - "Hati Hati - Ada Upacara Agama"  (Take care - There is a religious ceremony) - the tree was here. Tonight's ritual is that of Tumpek Kandang, when offerings are made to Dewa Iswara, God's manifestation as creator of art and art's implements. But it is the tree that receives them, the tree under whose sheltering branches offerings have been made since before the name of Dewa Iswara was ever uttered here.

Standing by the side of the Abang to Amlapura road, the supersaturated green of rice terraces in the Tukad Balunggah valley is a balm to eyes recently blasted by dust and grit from passing trucks.

The mountain roads of eastern Bali are a joy on a motorbike - unlike the roadworks-ridden Professor Doctor Ida Bagus Mantra Bypass. The highway that brought us east from Denpasar to Candidasa should have been a high speed run along the coast. Instead the roadworks and attendant convoys of trucks had made the bypass feel even longer than its name. It took three hours, but it was worth it: The scenic splendour and jungled tunnels of this sinuous ribbon of asphalt between Amplapura and Abang is something else entirely...

Riding a bike is by far the best way to get around on the island. Part of it is being able to cruise past long lines of idling cars and trucks, completing a journey through snarled traffic in less than half the time it would take in any four-wheeled vehicle. But the best of it is being exposed to the surfeit of scents and sounds carried on the moist tropical air. It's a wonder anyone wants to own a car given the advantages we see in riding a bike, but then we haven't experienced a wet season yet, so maybe that opinion will change!

We're heading for the Amed coast for a weekend of snorkelling and a low-key celebration of our birthdays. It's a long ride on a well loaded bike, but we've already decided to take an even longer route home to avoid the bypass and hopefully find more roads like this one.