Munduk

Our second venue in Bali is at an eco-resort called Village in the Clouds. We set off from Sideman around one P.M. intending to get to Munduk, which we’ve noted on some correspondence or other is where Village in the Clouds is located. I’ve consulted our rudimentary Bali roadmap and found Munduk on the southwest coast, which we judge before setting out to be a five or six hour drive from Sideman at most. We begin our journey first visiting a huge volcanic lake and caldera that is stunningly beautiful (although mostly obscured by clouds), taking the requisite photographs, and then driving along the rim of the crater before heading down to sea level on the north side of the island. It can’t be more than 10 miles as the crow flies from the volcano’s rim to the sea and our plan is to get to Munduk by circumnavigating the island on what looks like a decent flat road along the shoreline. Unexpectedly, driving steadily from the volcano’s ridge to the sea takes us about three hours, not the thirty minutes we anticipated, and once at sea level we find ourselves in a solid line of traffic, still moving very slowly, maybe creeping is more accurate, and when the skies open for the daily late afternoon deluge we pull into a very touristy restaurant and bar right on the beach in Lovina.
During the course of dinner we ask the waiter how long he thinks it will take us to get to Munduk and he asks us to show him where on the map is this Munduk I am referring to. So I show him the Munduk I’m headed towards and he shows me two others. And the light bulb finally goes on, the Munduk where Village in the Clouds is located is not at sea level, and is appropriately named “in the clouds” because it is in the Munduk the waiter has shown us high in the mountains.
Well that saves us a long useless drive we both chide and congratulate ourselves about as we head out toward the Munduk in the mountains on a road that would be immensely challenging under ideal conditions, no less in the dark, in the rain, in thick fog and clouds. And when we do finally reach the village of Munduk we absolutely cannot find Village in the Clouds. We drive passed town up the road. Nothing. We make U-turns that are beyond precarious and drive down the road. Nothing. There are places in the road that when we stop we cannot get traction enough to go forward and must back down in the dark, sometimes with me outside the vehicle calling wheel turning directions to Joy who is backing up blind until a flat enough section of road is found to get enough traction to reestablish our uphill climb. We see no open stores, no open restaurants, nothing but shuttered houses. And when we do by good fortune come upon one tiny open shop selling cigarettes, soda, water, and bananas I get out to try to explain what we are looking for to the owner. “Village in the Clouds” I say, drawing the words out slowly and forming the shape in the air with my arms of the A-frame houses we expect to find there. And the shopkeeper says to me with a heavy accent but in absolutely perfect English, “I know every resort and accommodation in this village and on this road. I am a tour guide. What you are looking for is not here. Don’t you have a cell phone and the phone number?”
Well, yes, I tell my newly found guardian angel, we do have a cell phone and even a phone number but we have not been able to get through on it. “Here, perhaps you can give me the number and I will try on my phone,” the guide says. And just like that, in mere moments, he and I are talking with the owner of Village in the Clouds, who also speaks beautiful English, and explains to us that “munduk” means hill in Balinese and that the resort is a solid hour away. The guide urges us to go no further up into the mountains. It’s 11:00 P.M. The roads are precipitous in the daytime under clear skies. We have not reached the peak. Traversing it will be dangerous. Guesthouses are available nearby where we can stay and leave in the morning.
But such is simply not our way. Joy and I are in complete agreement on this as on so much else this trip and we take leave of our guide offering him our gratitude … and money for his time and phone minutes, which he refuses. “It was my destiny to help you,” he says. “I will call in ninety minutes to make sure you have gotten there.” Which he does, and which we have not given our speed, cautions, and a few wrong turns, although we do finally arrive at Village in the Clouds, where we are greeted by Josep, the co-owner, at about 1:00 A.M., hugged, told that our “friend” from Munduk has been calling concerned for us, and guided by Josep to our architecturally beautifully designed and fantastically located A frame. We’ve been driving on the road other than the dinner break for twelve hours. Joy has done all the driving.