Bali is a deeply religious place. You see evidence of the people’s demonstration of their faith at every turn.

To me, this energy feels substantial, full. I think it’s also because of nature’s intimacy in this place. Coming from Singapore, the complex and intertwining flow of nature’s being can be overwhelming and daunting. At least it is at first, when you step out of the busy-ness of an urban life and once again into stillness. Then it begins to wrap around you and lead you into beauty.

Perhaps it’s the spirits and the gods of the Balinese I feel, through nature and through the people. The gods of the sea, trees, mountains, rivers. It is also because gone are the distractions of modern life, that keep you numb on some level. This allows us to more easily pierce through the veil, the invisible world becoming more accessible and more tangle.

To experience this, visit Ubud. Walk in the Padantegal Monkey Forest.

The land is held sacred by the Balinese. No less is Wenara Wana or what we tourists call the Monkey Forest. Inside sits one of the three main temples of Desa Pakraman Padangtegal (“people’s village” of Padangtegal), Pura Dalem or death temple. Prayer and rituals of offering are simply part of everyday life for the Balinese. You see it in the flowers, woven palm leaves, food, and incense that is everywhere.

Kupu Kupu Barong, Ubud

In 2007 I hopped over to Ubud for relaxation and brain-rest. It was my first visit to the island. Mostly I hung out in the Kupu Kupu Barong villa, doing nothing. Yes, il bel far niente. The beauty of doing nothing is, indeed, beautiful and seductive. And addictive…when you can truly let go.

The River View Pool Villa was a beautiful sanctuary, with an outdoor plunge pool that overlooked the Ayung River Valley below. Occasionally excited water rafters pass by on the river or locals would bathe there. Aside from enjoying the outdoor pool, I also took long soaks in the large bathtub, a centre piece at the centre of the villa.

Initially it felt slightly out of joint to do absolutely nothing, even with a tinge of guilt. There was some effort to just be floating in the plunge pool, maybe taking a nap or reading, and getting some luxurious massages at the Mango Tree Spa onsite. I was relaxed and I let go in degrees and deeper but it didn’t escape me how conditioned we’ve all been to be productive, to be strategic with our time.

The Monkey Forest

Being my first time in Ubud and Bali, I wanted to venture out and see why Ubud is such a treasure.

I opted out of the elephant ride and rice field walk, surprisingly popular. It was the Monkey Forest for me, a reserve of about 30 acres.

I strolled through Ubud to the southern end of Monkey Forest Road, past art galleries, boutiques, and a melange of tourist shops. I made a mental note to check these out later.  Before I realized, I was already in the sacred space of the forest, a shaded sanctuary that breathed mystery and held its own secrets. It felt like a blackhole, pulling us into its depths, revealing to us its splendor and openness within.

There are wild monkeys in Singapore – strolling in the middle of Nassim Hill Road, sitting in the trees in the Woodlands Waterfront parking lot, Dairy Farm, etc.

The monkeys I have “met” do their own thing. The ones at the Batu Caves outside of Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia even throw you a somewhat disdainful look when you interrupt them in their grooming. Sorry, I had to pause, to breathe, on this 272-step climb.

The long-tailed monkeys (crab-eating macaques actually) at the Monkey Forest reserve also do their own thing, except their thing is find-the-banana. Apparently there were over 600 residents now, from four different troupes at the time of my visit. In 2023, when I checked the Monkey Forest website, according to a 2019 survey, there are now 1,059 monkeys living in seven separate groups.

Over the years there have been other tourist-animal encounters. A snake at the Marrakesh souk. Lemurs in Madagascar. Deer in Miyajima. Elephants in Phuket. Turtles and sting rays in Bora Bora. Camels in Morocco. Wallabies in New Zealand.

Here there was an older monkey who would tug at people’s shorts for attention, just a “hey I’m down here. I’d like a banana too please.”  I saw him walking around like that with some guy, holding onto his shorts, warding off the juveniles. One monkey he chased away ran off to a tree, from which he launched himself onto the guy’s head and sat contently on his shoulders. Of course he got some banana.

For many people, seeing the tiny babies is a highlight. The tiny ones are so precious. Judging from their hair colour, these infants were less than six months old, their wrinkly faces making them look older and more concerned than the adults.

And yes, the mothers are protective so be sure to bring a good zoom lens to capture closeups of these pretty babies. The monkeys are generally quite relaxed; just be aware there are a lot of babies and not to unnecessarily spook the mothers.

I’m not sure how long I lingered in the Monkey Forest. I fed the monkeys, sat and watched them play for a while, and continued on. A gentle breeze and the shade of the magnificent trees carried me through with ease on another humid tropical day.

I love trees and stopped frequently to touch them. These are old, their branches wrapping around the trunks, stretching out far beyond. The forest has over 100 different species of trees, some very sacred to the Balinese. It was a quiet afternoon, even with the merrymaking of the monkeys and the squeals of the (human) kids. A perfect way to wind down. With the monkeys fed, I headed back into the human world to feed myself.