This holiday was a long time coming. I booked cheap airasia flights a little under a year ago for ALT's birthday with the intention of a) going to bali (...obviously) and b) providing motivation to progress my surfing skills from abysmal to somewhere between complete kook and applaudably eager but pitiably lacklustre grommet.
To help facilitate b, a quick bit of googling suggested the apparently oft overlooked and quiet fishing village of Medewi in West Bali. All I could find on the place was a few forum mentions here and there that promised great, easy waves, and a few sparse websites for accomodation options (of which there are about 6 in total).
With that, we booked a few nights accomodation in a house in the neighbouring village of Pulukan, and before you know it were getting whisked from Denpasar airport through the night, with ALT occasionally waking from slumber, groggy and terrified as we flew passed another truck on a blind corner.
For me, nothing beats arriving to a new destination in the dark, and waking up to watch the sunrise slowly reveal your temporary home for the next few days. This particular sunrise didn't disappoint. We were nestled in amongst fields of rice paddies, in the far corner of a tiny little Muslim village with layered hills lining the horizon.
Following our directions to Medewi after the first of a silly amount of nasi gorengs, we wandered through the village, down the hill, passed the rice paddies and over the bridge to our first glimpse of what we had journeyed so far for. Rolling 6 to 8 foot lefts coming like clockwork down the point breaking for a couple of hundred metres, the very definition of gentle giants (I've since heard them referred to as nanna ramps - new favorite idiom). Heaven.
The next 96 hours were passed in a haze of long walks, longer surfs, home made balinese food, the ever ubiquitous crowing of roosters and the ritual sounds of call to prayer wafting through the air.
A couple more stories are smattered throughout the photos below.
Also, ALT nailed a few whoppers.
This is Made (pronounced Muh-day). Made is a legend (I throw that word around a lot - but he deserves it). He surfed the same point break almost daily for 34 years, until a big swell, a wipeout, and a burst eardrum stopped him getting in the water. The only time he ventures out now is to teach beginners to surf, and uses homemade ear plugs (i.e. balled up pieces of paper) to keep water out of his ear. He was genuinely over the moon stoked whenever anyone finding their feet got up on a wave, and would paddle around the line up giving everyone who was new tips about where to sit and take off, pushing all the learners onto waves, even those who hadn't paid for lessons. He also makes a mean condensed milk coffee and has a habit of saying 'uh-oh' whenever he sees a big set coming.
Incidentally, we were wondering why we were meeting so many Balinese named Made. Turns out the Balinese have a distinct naming system whereby a persons name corresponds to which child they are (Wayan = first born, Made = second born etc) with generally only a few variations for each. Lots of people probably knew that already. I didn't.
Pulukan point. This is a big old rock shelf which juts out of the headland. The place comes alive around sunset when the heat of the day starts to subside. Fisherman come to fish (duh) and local kids arrive 3 and 4 to the scooter to play soccer on the sand. Apparently in winter when sunset coincides with low tide, bunches of families come to sit in the warm water of the shallow rock pools that form with the receding tide and have been baking in the sun all day to escape the cool (Bali averages a low temp of just 23 C in winter - evidently this is freezing enough to necessitate a natural spa bath).
The boat is a monument to Indonesian independence from the Dutch.
Incidentally, the place is beautiful af.
