Timeless Temple Treasures

Whilst in Bali, I visited several temples as they are the key to understanding the central role of religion in the lives of the people.  The first was a magnificent public village temple called Pura Puseh, in Batuan, in the Ubud region.  Visitors are welcome, but to observe temple etiquette I dressed in a sarong and happily made a donation. To enter, I had to pass through a towering split gate (the candi bentar) that represents the cosmic mountain split into the positive and negative forces. This entrance was guarded by a pair of ferocious looking demon statues who were draped in the black and white checked poleng fabric (symbolising the contrast and balance between good and bad spirits).  The colours yellow (prosperity) and white (holiness) also had a strong visual impact, in lengths of draped fabric and flags that rippled in the breeze, and decorative fringed parasols. The temple has been extensively restored in recent years and was a showcase for Balinese arts, crafts and building skills. I learnt about the traditional architectural features with their complex meanings, and the significance of the shrines and rituals that take place there. Fortunately an odalan (festival), was taking place. Queues of women waited patiently to present their colourful offerings of flowers and other materials, and the atmosphere was thick with incense and the rhythmic gamelan music played by the temple musicians in their rich costumes.  

 

 



 

Other temples I visited include Pura Taman Ayun, (‘vast garden’), a stunning moated complex with a physical design that symbolizes the Hindu world set in the cosmic sea.  To the faithful, the temple is believed to ensure the harmonious circulation of water – water, that is essential for life itself… flowing from the mountains to Bali’s ricefields, to the sea, and in turn,  back to the mountains, falling as rain. So, on this hot, sunny day, in this place that was conceived way back in the 18^th century to give thanks to the gods for the vital element of water, it was fitting that I should feel the power of the place… entranced by the beauty of the inner moats with their exotic lotus flowers,  and the magical reflections of  the beautiful temple architecture – most notably the striking Meru towers. The towers function as shrines, and their design symbolizes some of Bali’s sacred mountains ( believed to be the homes of the gods). I learnt from my guide that their intriguing sculptural roof forms consist of 3, 5, 7, 9 or 11 tiers, depending on the importance of the deity, and that the dark fibre used for the roof is a product of the sugar palm. (I realised that my hotel’s ornate garden lanterns that I plan to recreate for my own garden back home, have been inspired by the design of the Meru towers, and also have roofs made from the same material.)   As I gaze at the temple cats that have made this place ‘home’ since the beginning, and watch the exquisite offerings tossed by pilgrims into the waters of the moat silently drifting along, caught by the gentle currents, I have a sense that this tranquil place, created by the hand of man,  is a little piece of paradise, and a visionary setting for all visitors to make a connection with the spiritual world.

 

 

Another interesting visit was to the Pura Dalem temple in the forests near Kedaton, which is home to several hundred long-tailed macaque monkeys that are indigenous to the island. The monkeys are an obvious draw for tourists like me, but to the Balinese, they are traditionally regarded as holy and sacred, as in their ancient mythology, the King Subali took the form of a monkey, and temple carvings and masks worn in dance performances often feature monkey-headed deities (see my Balinese carved wooden Monkey Mask in the Understanding Art studio).



As my time in Bali drew to a close, I had two more temple treasures to cherish, on a visit that stands out as an unforgettable finale to my trip. Fortuitously it was a full moon on that last night, with the promise of a special festival in which many Balinese people were to be involved. And so I joined hundreds of pilgrims who had travelled far and wide, to converge on the world famous Pura Tanah Lot, that dates back to the 16^th century. The setting is spectacular as the temple is only accessible at low tide, and visitors have to make their way over the rocks on foot, across to the small peninsular that reaches 100 yards into the ocean. In the opposite direction was another smaller temple – Pura Batu Bolong, elevated on a natural stone archway that has been eroded over millions of years by the sea.  I arrived just as the sun was setting, and watched in silence as the line of silhouetted pilgrims threw their offerings into the water, to be consumed by the crashing waves below. Sights and sounds of this wonderful island, that I will treasure in my memory forevermore.....



Bali, Island home of the gods.

After the long flight across Australia and the Indian Ocean I finally arrived in Bali at 10.30pm on a warm, balmy, late July night, to find myself in a place that seemed like another world. Bali means ‘offering’ and the significance of this was to be reinforced over and over again during my week’s stay, on this island paradise of the Indonesian archipelago.

 

93% of Bali’s population is Hindu and I was quickly to learn and witness that religion is an inherent part of daily life, seen in material form in the making of offerings three times a day to deities, at the temples and shrines that appear in profusion all over the island. The Balinese are a deeply spiritual people and the family home has its own temple and shrines, as does every village; hotels have temples, as do schools and workplaces; shrines can be found on hazardous road interchanges and roadsides, in restaurants and shops, in the fields and granaries; and important holy places have spectacular historic temples that inspire pilgrims to travel great distances from their homes, especially on major festival days, to pay homage to the Hindu trinity of Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu -all manifestations of one and the same supreme spirit Sanghyang Widhi. (More of this later!)

Any hint of jet lag quickly evaporated with the thrilling drive from the airport to my hotel, and this first encounter with the frenetic and pulsating roads of Bali also quickly dispensed with my ideas of hiring a car to explore the island! Having driven cars and mopeds in many foreign parts, I had never seen traffic quite like this before, for the moped is king of the road here….Mopeds, carrying the young and fashionable, wizened white-haired old ladies nonchalantly riding pillion (side-saddle!), whole families sandwiched together, farmers with their goats and baskets of chickens and other crazy, precariously balanced loads of the most unlikely objects; mopeds that navigated the potholes and twisting roads, and unfalteringly wove in and out of the cars without a hint of road rage or impatience being dished out in response to their high-risk driving habits.

So, the next day I arranged two excursions with a driver and English speaking guide, to take me to sites that were potentially of the greatest interest, with the intention of learning as much about this new world culture as possible. And what remarkable experiences were in store for me ……

First full-day excursion: Bali, extraordinary home to the arts and crafts

This epic 9-hour trip took me to some exhilarating places and experiences, beginning in the Ubud region and an extraordinary Barong performance in a local village theatre, that I watched with the audience from tiered steps seating. The stars of the show were Barong and the demon Queen, Rangda, whose masks I have in my display of Asian artefacts in the Understanding Art Studio. My masks were brought to life as originally intended, in an ancient story that told of the fight between the good and evil spirits, in a spectacular mix of traditional music, dance, acting, costume and scenery.

Here is a short film clip showing the charismatic Barong, king of the good spirits who is meant to resemble a lion. This entrancing performance was one of the most memorable experiences of my trip, that has given me a better understanding of the context of my two masks.

I had requested in my schedule that I be taken to see some of the workshops where traditional Balinese crafts were practised. The main area for crafts is around the Ubud region, and all along the roadsides were dizzying rows of statues of numerous deities such as Buddha, Brahma , Shiva, Vishnu, Ganesh, demon guards, Garuda and Barong – some of gigantic size ...how I would love to get some home for the Understanding Art Studio or my garden!

Behind the displayed sculptures for sale were the simple sheds where the craftsmen could be glimpsed  carving or casting their sculptures. As my car sped along, I got tantalizing glimpses of beautifully carved doors and hand-made furniture, huge circular relief sculptures fashioned out of tree roots, and enormous ceramic pots. Firstly, I went to a Batik studio and saw the craft for which Bali is most famous, from design through to final product, and bought some authentic samples in the beautiful shop where batik sarongs, shirts, scarves and pictures were displayed for sale. (Lots of photos to show you on my return).

Then I went to a silver-smithing business and was shown by the women artisans, how the silver is fashioned into intricate jewellery of delicate design and workmanship. My next stop was a wood carving studio where men sat around on the floor fashioning logs of wood into highly detailed sculptures of deities using images passed down for generations. The demonstration was clearly set up for the tourists, as in reality most carvers work from home, but it was fascinating to see the various stages in the transformation from tree to final product illustrated so clearly. The sculptures the men are working on in my photos below take a month to complete and sell for a bartered price of around £100. Some local timbers are used, such as crocodile wood, but others such as ebony are imported from Borneo. An impressive showroom displayed hundreds of wood carvings for sale and shipping abroad, produced by the local artisans.

Later that day I was taken to a famous Balinese painter's studio, and then the legendary village of Tenganan to see its world famous double ikat weaving (more of Tenganan later!) But there was so much more to see, and I was left with the feeling that creating things is like breathing to the Balinese, and is closely tied to the spiritual. The exquisite hand made offerings to their gods, the traditional theatrical performance and craft studios I visited that day, left me in no doubt that Bali is home to diverse and sophisticated art forms of the highest quality I have ever seen.

'Going Bush': Exploring the Blue Mountains

On 26^th July, I went on a day-long trek into the legendary Blue Mountains, 80 kilometres west of Sydney. My driver, guide and mentor was a lovely Aussie guy called Col’, an expert in bushcraft survival skills, who arrived in a huge beast of a 4-wheel drive vehicle, with a snorkel exhaust pointing up above the windscreen- potentially we were equipped for some adventurous off-road exploration! This World Heritage treasure (yes, another one!), covers an area the size of Belgium, and is home to vast forests of Eucalyptus, boasting over 100 different varieties of the tree that we associate so much with Australia. It is the evaporating oil droplets from the billions of eucalyptus trees that hover in the atmosphere and give the legendary blue haze, especially on hot, sunny days.

 After the one hour drive, by 8.00am I found myself walking through Euroka Clearing, near Glenbrook, searching for the Eastern Grey kangaroo, which initially proved elusive. Instead, green droppings and tracks led us to the large burrow of a nocturnal wombat that was probably still asleep inside its home. The only sounds were the raindrops dripping from the trees and the unfamiliar birdsong that pierced the silence.

Then, a magical moment – to my delight, we came upon a female kangaroo and her mate, grazing on grass, and totally indifferent to us as we got almost within touching distance of them; and what’s more, she had a little joey in her pouch who poked its face out briefly!

We drove onto the area of Katoomba, which straddles the ridge between the Grose and Jamison Valleys, and enjoyed walks that led to natural panoramic viewing outcrops with evocative names such as Eagle Hawk Lookout, Echo Point, The Anvil, and Govett’s Leap. From the first vantage point we could see glimpses of Katoomba waterfalls far below, and massive rock formations that rival America’s Grand Canyon, but were even older.  

Many of the National Park’s heritage tracks and lookouts that we followed were created for Victorian-era honeymooners and day-trippers, and I imagined what is would be like walking down some of the steep staircases and narrow tracks in a dress with a bustle!  From Echo Point we had spectacular views of The Three Sisters which is of great significance to the Gundungurra Aborigines whom the forests were once home to. Their related dreamtime story tells of the three beautiful sisters called Meehni, Wimiah and Gunnedoo who lived long ago in the Jamison Valley. They were in love with three brothers from the rival Dhapruk tribe, but marriage to outsiders was forbidden, and so the desperate men vowed to capture the women by force. The Kuradjuri (witch doctor), used his magic bone to turn the sisters to stone to hide them, intending to restore them to life when the battle between the two tribes ended, but he was killed and his powerful bone lost in the forest. The magic bone has never been found, and until it is, the spell cannot be broken, and the three sisters will forever be frozen in time as the three iconic rock formations that are the focal point of this wonderful view.

The story Col’ told me reminds me that this land was once the home of the Aborigines and that they have different names for these places, and mysterious explanations of how the geology was formed- another legend was that the river meandering through the gorge below was a giant serpent that once slid through the forest; to me such stories are more appealing than the rational science that tells us that this was the site of a great inland sea, and the strange shapes and textures of the sandstone rocks that I run my hands over, are actually just caused by the erosion of the elements over millions of years.

Aboriginal people have been here for 50,000 years, living off the land and sea, and at our other walks near Leura and Blackheath, Col’ pointed out the native names for plants and their uses by the indigenous inhabitants – Tree grass was used for basket weaving, Banksia’s sharp, serrated leaves were used to cut the pelt off a hunted animal, and another rough-textured leaf was used as sandpaper to smooth the surfaces of their carved wooden boats.

Back in the town of Katoomba we had lunch of flat-head fish at the Mountain Heritage Hotel, with its enviable views over the Blue Mountains. Bizarrely the hotel was decorated with Christmas trees and fairy lights, as in Australia they sometimes have an extra Yuletide celebration in their winter, as Christmas Day falls in summer - their hottest time of year.

I had requested to see some more Aboriginal rock art, and we stopped off at Ticehurst Park to see some remarkable flat rock engravings that were spread out over a sandstone platform overlooking a ravine below. Surprisingly the precious relics that could date back thousands of years, are adjacent to three modern houses, and could easily be missed or vandalized.  Col’ pointed out representations of three life-sized emus – one with a full crop, and another, wounded with its head dropped. My expert guide explained that the holes spread out along the incised lines were plotting points that the artist used to map out and guide his scratched line drawings. The hunter’s footprints could be seen too, carved into the exposed rock beneath my own feet.  Other dips in the rock were in reality axe-grinding grooves where the Aboriginal hunter had sat and sharpened his axe and spear tips. Also significant were a number of small water "wells" or dips in the rock floor that collected water for drinking. The placement of the axe-grinding grooves next to water wells was, I learnt, practical, as water was required for the stone-grinding process both to wash away the sand produced by the grinding process and to keep the axe cool during the process.

A local rock art site might tell a particular creation story which is connected to another rock art site which could be a few hundred metres away. Some sites are a long distance apart yet still connected through the Dreaming stories they tell.

This photograph shows Red Hands Cave, a few miles away, once home to the Daruk tribe that lived in the Blue Mountains for 14,000 years

There was an eerie presence at Ticehurst Parkand the images laid out before me had an intangible power. Sadly, no Aboriginal has received the exact story and the symbolic meaning of the haunting pictures, and they are in danger of damage from ignorant visitors who inadvertently walk over them or worse, intentionally vandalize them. Being in this place I gained a deeper understanding of the paintings of native animals, rivers and water holes that I saw in the memorable dreamtime paintings in the Melbourne gallery, and hope that the Aboriginal rock art treasures seen in the Blue Mountains can be conserved for future generations.

What a superb day, and a fitting climax to my time in Sydney, as I say goodbye to this unique country, and move onto my final world culture tomorrow – BALI!

Fishing for Pearls in Sydney

I arrived at Sydney airport on 23^rd July at 11.30am, and caught the double-decker airport train to the city’s ‘Museum’ station, which was nearest to my Travelodge accommodation for my 4- night stay. Brimming with history, nature, culture, art, fashion, cuisine, design, the city is set next to miles of ocean coastline and sandy surf beaches and has many 'pearls' that sets it apart as one of the most beautiful cities on the planet -such as Sydney Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge, two of the most iconic structures on the planet.
Of Sydney’s 4.6 million multi-ethnic population, 17% are of Asian origin. That night I wandered down to the Chinatown quarter which was a vibrant mix of neon lights, seedy massage parlours, bars, busy oriental restaurants and shops, and in darker corners, drunken beggars and homeless folk sleeping rough (including I noted sadly, several Aboriginals). I hurried back to the security of my hotel as an alcohol fuelled fight broke out nearby.

I was pleased to find a small kitchen in my hotel room, in which I could make some basic meals, as Australia was proving surprisingly expensive to eat out. Next day I found a Coles supermarket and bought some provisions for picnic lunches and evening meals, and felt more at home as a result. For me, having control over meal production makes me feel more secure and at ease in an unfamiliar place of temporary residence.Early the next morning, using the free 555 bus service, I got down to Circular Quay and the spectacular harbour with its ferries, iconic bridge and opera house. 

Sydney Opera House, designed by Danish architect Jorn Utzon, became one of my favourite buildings in the world, after a guided tour back in 1986, revealed the originality and aesthetic beauty of its shell-like abstract forms and inspirational setting upon the harbour. On this visit I was determined to see a performance, and booked to see Bizet’s opera ‘The Pearlfishers’ the following evening (the cheapest seat up in the gods!) I walked back through the beautiful Royal Botanic Gardens, appreciating the exotic plants and birds, to the Art gallery of New South Wales, which was in a fine neo-Classical building. The Sydney Biennial was on - Australia’s pre-eminent contemporary art event, and I focused on an engaging installation by John Wolseley relating to bushfires and their destructive force.  I really wanted to see more Aboriginal art, and was amazed to find that the theme of the current exhibition was called ‘HOME’!!! Apparently when the First Fleet landed in 1788 and laid claim to the land around Sydney Cove as the first penal colony, and specifically the art gallery location,  it was already the home of the Cadigal Eora people. This began the displacement and loss of homeland of the Aboriginal peoples, which escalated with the European settlement of Australia, and the rest as they say is history. Sadly I could not take photos and there was no catalogue of the exhibition, but many of the artefacts were highly politically charged and told of the impact of colonisation and the loss of home and traditional way of life that many Aboriginals feel. What I saw made a big impression and I made lots of notes to include in my planned lecture on Aboriginal art.

Taronga Zoo

Making an early start, I caught the ferry to this world class show-case of Australian animals, which is home to more than 4,000 animals in 50 recreated naturalistic environments, set against a stunning backdrop of Sydney Harbour.  The boat trip in itself was marvellous, giving photo-opportunities for fresh views of the city skyline, opera house and bridge, from the water, and the sun actually shone! It is winter here and quite cool and drizzly weather to date.  At the Zoo which was founded in 1916, I enjoyed getting up close to the hairy-nosed wombat and other indigenous animals from this ancient continent, including the crocodiles that I had seen on the Daintree Rainforest River trip. A chair-lift transported me back down to the ferry through the treetops of the zoo, giving birds’-eye aerial views of the animals below.

Sydney Opera House: The Pearlfishers

What a magical evening! I changed into my glad rags and sped down to the Opera House for the performance which began at 7.30pm. Night had descended and transformed the sites I had seen earlier in the day. The city lights reflected in the dark waters of the harbour, as I walked along the promenade to the venue, with many others. The building took on a different guise in the darkness, illuminated from within, and I felt on a high of excitement and anticipation as I ascended the carpeted staircases and took my seat at the top of the main concert hall. The orchestra struck up and the beautiful singing began and miraculously floated up to reach me in the ribs of the ‘shell’s’ lofty roof; with the gorgeous sets and costumes and intriguing storyline, I was transported into another time and place for the 2 and a half hour performance. I will always remember my night at the opera in Sydney…. one of the finest homes to this art form in the world.

Melbourne: At home with Barry Smith

I flew Qantas into Melbourne airport, capital of the state of Victoria, from North Queensland, on Thursday 19^th July, to be met by my friend Barry Smith who is showing me as many highlights of the region in my short 4-day stay as can be shoe-horned in. Barry is an adventurer, writer, intellectual, raconteur, and fount of knowledge about the history and culture of Australia, after making it his adopted home for 40 years. Having studied at Cambridge University, he then took the plunge and emigrated from his Manchester home, to a forward-looking, ambitious land of opportunity.

It is 26 years since my last visit to Melbourne, and as we zoomed through the vast skyscrapers and impressive infrastructural developments of the city, I can see huge changes. I am reminded of the Australian coat of arms with its emu and kangaroo- two indigenous animals that symbolically cannot walk backwards. Australia is still a country with huge ambition and vision, and it seems continues to offer employment possibilities for young Brits who have the same spirit of adventure that the young Barry showed back in the late 1960’s and are willing to leave their homeland (take note dear students!) Barry lives in a modern apartment on Richmond Hill, which was full of books and paintings, with a very bohemian ambience. I really felt at home here!  Spoilt for choice of where to eat that night, in a truly multi-cultural mecca for foodies, I was whisked off to Barry’s local Vietnamese restaurant where he was warmly greeted by the owner, as if visiting his second home.

We walked across Princes Bridge and along elevated South Bank that overlooks the river Yarra, taking in the wonderful Opera House and concert hall, all towered over by high rise apartment blocks in dramatic, abstract geometric shapes that cut into the winter sky and occasionally flash with the bright shafts of sunlight glinting on the reflective surfaces. Living here does not come cheap, and a home near the top of the tallest tower in the southern hemisphere that looms above, would set you back well in excess of a million pounds.

We promenaded from the ultra-modern and chic, back in time, to The Lanes and de Graves Street, with its busy little boutique cafes, through to the elegant Victorian Block Arcade – as opulent, refined and exclusive as London’s Burlington Arcade. I pressed my nose against the gleaming window of the beautiful Hopetoun Tea Rooms which date back to the 1880’s, and imagined myself transported back in time, sitting at a table in my long dress, petticoats, corset, white gloves and bonnet, taking afternoon tea with my lady friends. Back in those days, in her determination to create a home thousands of miles from home the wife of a successful merchant would have uncompromisingly kept up the best of English standards and etiquette, even in the intense heat of the Australian summer!

 

 We jumped on a tram to nearby Docklands, which over the past 30 years has been radically redeveloped as a fashionable place to live, with its prestigious marina, but which also bears the traces of its former industrial role, with its wharfs, sheds and waterways. The Docks were of course the former vital hub for the export of Australian goods, and the import and transportation of supplies and produce from home and abroad. The pier further along would have been the site where thousands of migrants had arrived looking for a better life, but many young Aussie men departed for war, never to return home.

Federation Square, a modern piazza which was created from scratch as a central focal point for the city around 20 years ago, is a bold architectural statement that reflects the ‘let’s go for it’ ethos of the city.  A highlight of the day was my visit to the adjacent National Gallery of Victoria, and a stunning exhibition of Contemporary Aboriginal Painting at the Ian Potter Centre. I have photographed the whole show and done extensive research that I intend to make into a powerpoint lecture on my return.

Well, what a city, and on other travels through the metropolis, I was able to record the diverse mix of houses past and present that make this such a desirable place to settle and regard as home. Below are just a few of my personal favourites, including 2 wonderful homes that I visited for some heart-warming Australian hospitality.

Two other highlights of my time in the state of Victoria were a tour of 3 of the principal vineyards of the verdant Yarra Valley, (home of one of the most important areas for wine production in Australia) - Domaine Chandon, de Bertoli, and Yerring Station; and a drive along Melbourne’s own waterfront of Port Phillip Bay which leads onto Sorrento and the National Park with its spectacular surf beach.

Many thanks Barry for being a marvellous host and sharing your home with me – next stop on my travels …. Sydney!