Funny Monkey Business in Bali
- Paul Hallman
- Mar 18
- 7 min read
After three days at sea and completing our port stops in Australia, we arrived in Indonesia at the port of Benoa in Bali. The humidity was high, the temperature was 34°C, and the air quality was poor—dense, with a smoky feeling that made everything seem heavier the moment we stepped outside.
We booked a Twin Lakes and Bali Highlands excursion for the day, leaving at 7:30 a.m. and returning at 4:30 p.m., so it was a full day off the ship. We boarded our bus and headed off into Bali. Good thing it was a Sunday—most people weren’t working and traffic was lower than usual—however it was still busy, with a steady stream of vehicles and motorcycles moving in every possible gap.
Some Bali History
Bali is a small island with a big presence. It’s home to roughly 4.3 million people and is part of Indonesia, the world’s fourth-largest country by population. Bali’s culture feels distinct because, unlike most of Indonesia which is predominantly Muslim, Bali is overwhelmingly Hindu. You see it everywhere: daily offerings placed on sidewalks and doorsteps, incense in the air, shrines in family compounds, and temples that appear around corners when you least expect them.
These photos were taken by a gentleman we met on board that gives iPhone Photo lessons and he took them from the Coral Princess ship at the dock
Historically, Bali was shaped by local kingdoms and outside influence over many centuries. Hindu and Buddhist ideas arrived through trade and migration from India and Java. When Islam spread through much of the Indonesian archipelago, Bali remained largely Hindu. Today, Bali’s economy is closely tied to tourism, which brings opportunity—but also pressure on roads, housing, and the environment.
One thing you notice immediately, is motorcycles. They’re everywhere, and they’re the lifeblood of daily transportation. Families ride together, deliveries happen by scooter, and traffic flows in a constant, buzzing stream. Lanes are more of a suggestion than a rule, and the “system” seems to be awareness, patience, and a lot of horn taps that mean “I’m here” more than “move!”
So many motorcycles on the roads and many carry more than two people
As we travelled along the roads and through the streets, one of the most striking things was how many temples and shrines we saw. It felt like they were everywhere—because in a way, they are. In Bali, many homes have their own family temple within the compound, a dedicated space for daily offerings and prayer. So even when you’re just driving from one stop to the next, you’re constantly passing carved gates, small shrines, and temple courtyards tucked behind walls—quiet reminders that spirituality here isn’t separate from everyday life, it’s built right into it.
There was a temple at almost every home - some small and others very large
We also learned a cultural detail that really stuck with us: many Balinese families traditionally name their children by birth order. The first-born is often Wayan (also commonly Putu or Gede), the second is Made (or Kadek), the third is Nyoman (or Komang), and the fourth is Ketut. After that, the cycle can repeat, and a personal name is usually added as well—so you might meet several “Wayan” or “Made” in the same community, with the second name helping distinguish the individual.
Family life is closely tied to the home compound and the family estate. Traditionally, the family land and compound are kept within the family line rather than being split up and sold off, and the responsibility for caring for the parents and maintaining the household temples often falls to the child who remains in (or returns to) the family compound. In many Balinese Hindu families, the youngest son is traditionally expected to take on much of that responsibility—staying in or near the family compound, caring for aging parents, and maintaining the family temple and ancestral rites. Because of those obligations, he may receive the largest share of the family property (especially the house/compound). That said, the exact inheritance split varies by village custom and family situation, and it isn’t a fixed island-wide rule.
\
Our tour agenda included the Tohpati Batik, then the Sangeh Monkey Forest, followed by Lake Bratan and the Ulun Danu Beratan Temple on Lake Bratan.
The red line is the 2 1/2 hour bus route we took to get to the Twin Lakes area
The Tohpati Batik was a great first stop and a reminder that batik isn’t just “a pattern on fabric”—it’s a process. Batik is a traditional textile artform that involves applying wax to fabric to create patterns, then dying the cloth so the waxed areas resist the dye and retain their original colour. Seeing the work up close gave us a new appreciation for the time and skill involved, and it’s hard to walk through without finding something you suddenly “need.” Jan had some art added to her blouse and it will remain as long as she continues to wash with cold water as hot will melt the wax and the art will disappear.
From there we headed to the Sangeh Monkey Forest, which is where Bali’s sense of humour really shows up. We walked toward the temple area and as soon as Jan sat down she was bombarded—monkeys jumping on her, climbing onto her lap and shoulders, and reaching in like they owned the place. And once they got started, they didn’t stop with Jan. They began jumping on everyone around, turning the whole area into a burst of laughter, squeals, and people trying to keep their balance while also not dropping anything. The group had lots of fun playing with them, and it ended up being one of those moments you couldn’t have planned if you tried.
I also took some time to step back from the chaos and just watch. Two female monkeys were sitting close by with babies that were only about two weeks old, and the contrast was striking—so much gentleness in the middle of all that mischief. The tiny ones clung tightly, blinking and shifting as the mothers calmly adjusted their grip and kept a watchful eye on everything around them. It turned into a perfect photo moment, and I managed to capture a few shots where their facial expressions said it all—curious, cautious, and completely unimpressed with the commotion nearby.
If you look closely to the mama on the left you can see she is holding a marble and it shows up in the closeup I took of the baby staring at me
After the monkey business, the drive up toward Lake Bratan felt like a reset. The scenery turned greener and cooler as we climbed, and the air was noticeably easier to breathe than down at the port. We passed by many rice fields, all irrigated from natural Springs that are all over the island.
Lake Bratan is one of Bali’s crater lakes. The highlands around Bedugul were shaped by ancient volcanic activity, and over time a large volcanic caldera formed in this region. Rainfall and groundwater collected in the basin, creating the lakes we see today. Bratan is part of a group often referred to as the “twin lakes” area (nearby Buyan and Tamblingan are the other well-known ones), all sitting up in cooler, wetter country than the coast. These lakes aren’t just scenic—they’re important water sources for the surrounding farms and communities, which is why water temples like Ulun Danu matter so much here.
Danu Beratan - A Lakeside Property
Ulun Danu Beratan isn’t just a single temple building—it’s a whole lakeside property that feels more like a carefully kept park. There are manicured gardens, stone gates, walkways along the shoreline, and multiple shrines and pavilions spread across the grounds. The famous multi-tiered meru shrine (the one that seems to “float” when the lake is high) is only part of it. Everywhere you look there are offerings, carved details, and little corners that invite you to slow down and take it in. We had the opportunity to watch a parade of locals celebrating and gathering in the main temple. Even with visitors coming through, the place still carries a calm, respectful atmosphere—very much a working sacred site, not just a photo stop.
The property was so magnificent and I took as many photos as I could with all the interesting areas as well as the various temple structures.
There were never any areas of the grounds that were boring.
One symbol we saw often—on temples, gates, and even in decorative stonework—was the Swastika. In Bali (and across much of the Hindu world), it’s an ancient sacred symbol that long predates the 20th century.
The word comes from Sanskrit: “su” (good) and “asti” (to be), meaning something like well-being or good fortune. In Hinduism it’s commonly used as a sign of auspiciousness, protection, and prosperity, and it often appears in connection with ceremonies, blessings, and sacred spaces.
It’s important to understand that this traditional symbol is not the same as the one most Westerners immediately think of. Hitler and the Nazi Party appropriated the swastika in the 1920s, twisting an ancient symbol into an emblem of hate. In many Hindu and Buddhist contexts, though, the swastika has retained its original meaning and continues to be used in everyday religious and cultural life—something you notice quickly once you start looking around Bali.
In Hindu traditions, the meaning of the swastika’s four arms varies by region and school, but common interpretations include:
Four Directions: North, South, East, and West.
Four Vedas: The holy texts of Rig, Yajur, Sama, and Atharva.
Four Goals (Purusharta): Dharma (duty), Artha (material prosperity), Kama (pleasure/desire), and Moksha (spiritual liberation).
Four Elements/Nature: Earth, water, fire, and air, representing stability and balance.
It is commonly seen on temple walls and in offerings to invoke positive energy and protection.
We made a stop at the Handara Golf & Resort, which is one of Southeast Asia's most celebrated highland retreats and it is nestled in the cool, mist-covered mountains of northern Bali at 3600 feet above sea level. They say it is the coolest area in Bali. A buffet lunch was served and we had the opportunity to see what tourists do when in the country.
After lunch we made a stop to take photos of the lakes but the weather was overcast and we could not see much, however the locals were out with their Fruit Bats, Python Snake which is found on the island, as well as a lizard.
It was a 2 ½ hour bus ride back to the ship and by the time we headed back to Benoa, it had been a full day—7:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.—and a great first look at Bali beyond the port. Many handicraft stores were visible as we drove back to the ship.
Between the temples, the batik experience, the highland scenery, and the unforgettable monkey ambush, it was the kind of day that leaves you tired in the best way, with a camera full of photos and a head full of stories.
Now we have three days at sea before we cross the equator again and then stop at Port Kelang followed by Penang, both in Malaysia and then Singapore - They will be very busy days on land. We have now half way into our Circle Cruise so more stories and adventures yet to come.
Comments