Katapang is a small sea village in the Java island. Nothing spectacularly, no attraction expect that in the shining day you can catch a glimpse of Bali beyond the narrow channel of sea. Katapang for us has a great value, it is the ferry towards the dreamed and desired island. One hour of ferry and finally our two wheels touch this volcanic land detached from the mother Indonesia thousands of years ago.
Already from the first rides you perceived the strong Hindu presence with habits and architecture very different from the other part of Indonesia predominantly Muslim.
Here Hindu changes shape and it becomes balinese, in this corner of the world, so liberal it assumes a different color, more tolerant, more artistic and in the same time more intimate. In fact every family build the own temple in the garden as if to signify the religion approach towards each of us, perfectly modeling itself on the needs of one’s spirituality.
We cycle a few days in the hilly west coast, we rest near the sea trying the impossible stunt of ridin a wave with a surfboard, the getting closer to Kuta the roads become more busy, the life more hectic, the business brazenly touristic.
It’s Kuta the place that attracts the mass: hotels, discos, white beach recreated ad hoc, fast food and fake local craft stores. Kuta for us is a big disappointment, it’s an unintended Riccione near the equator. We just need a night in the hustle and bustle to get back in the saddle and search bay after bay our true Bali, we know that we will found it somewhere…rain cars and hairpin. Then the thinning of houses, the first forests, some solitary creek, a faded sign on an old long board with written BINING BEACH…Bali I found you, you’re a beach of sand and rock on the turquoise sea, you’re an expanse of coral in low tide, you’re a lady from Madura who sells bracelets, you’re a terrace full of friends at the sunset, you’re a stubborn surfer waiting for the right wave, you’re a deflated ball chased by the undertow, you’re like us traveller, fantastic mixture of ethnic groups, of belief, of food, of landscapes…you’re a known island who finds peace in hidden corners.
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