It’s a bit of a splurge, but Prana also owns Chill, my ultimate favorite reflexology place in Bali, so I know it’s going to be quality. Unlike Chill with its clean, sparse design, Prana Spa is quite elaborate. The décor has lots of Indian influence with rich colors and regal flourishes. And the spa is part of a bigger complex including villas, a delicious veggie restaurant I went to twice (a veggie restaurant that also happens to serve meat!), and a pretty kick ass and reasonably priced store.

After checking in at the front desk and being a dork by taking pics (so my Betties can get a feel for the place), I am led back into the spa complex to an ornate changing room. Another woman, who I will affectionately refer to as the Spa Nazi, instructs me on the finer points of dressing roomery. It’s not so much in a “let me be helpful to you” kind of way more than it is a “I’m the boss, jackass” type of helpful. I don’t dare ask to take pictures of the dressing room. I don’t even dare to look around too much. But before I get a detention for snapping my gum, I am fetched for my Ayuervedic Shiro Dara treatment.

In the treatment room, I spy what I assume is the oil drooling device and I start to feel giddy. But before we can get to the good stuff, the whole thing starts off with a scalp, neck and shoulder massage. It’s nice and all, but I’m anxious for the oil. And soon enough it comes.

Regarded as an anti-aging treatment, Shiro Dara is also said to awaken the third eye. At first mine says, “Hey, who the F$#@ is pouring hot oil all over me?” but after a minute or so it says, “Mmmm, this feels good if I just keep my lid closed.” The oil is warm and silky and oh so soothing as it glides over my skin and starts to drench my hair. Every once in a while, the technician moves the spigot around so that the oil isn’t just spilling onto the same spot on my head. I think about how this whole process sounds similar to Chinese water torture and I can’t help but think what a difference viscosity makes.

Unsure of how long it will last, I spend most of the time trying not to worry about when it will stop. Maybe defeating the purpose. But either way, I feel relaxed and calm and pampered. After about 20 minutes, the well is dry and I am again given a neck and shoulder massage. But now it’s just feeling kind of irritating because the technician keeps rubbing the same few places over and over again. Soon enough, I am offered tea and led back up to the Spa Nazi. I spend my time in the shower thinking up ways of getting myself my own oil dribble machine. With spa prices what they are in the States, I doubt I’ll ever know the pleasures of Shiro Dara again.

Travel Betty Basics

Prana Spa at the Villas
Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia
Ambiance: 5.0 out of 5 Passion Fruits
Treatment: 3.5 out of 5 Passion Fruits
Cost: $75 U.S. (the only place that charged me in dollars)

Note: I was able to make a reservation for my treatment online which was great because I didn’t have a phone. But I didn’t get a same-day appointment, so if you want to go, make sure that you reserve ahead of time. It’s the only place I’d needed to.

Over time, they got worse and worse until a couple of years ago when I was taking public transportation in the East Bay and had a full-scale meltdown. I thought I was having a heart attack. I was convinced of it. I felt alone and trapped and terrified. Somehow I was able to make it to my freelance gig where I asked a woman I hardly knew to take me to the hospital. Once there, I was miraculously healed. Every symptom disappeared the second I told the admitting nurse that I thought I was having a panic attack.

After that, I would have at least one major episode annually, more often than not in November. Another doozy was when Travel Boyfriend and I went to Southeast Asia. It was our first night and we were in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Until then I’d only really traveled to Western countries and to say that Cambodia is quite different than your Germanys and Spains is the world’s biggest understatement. Triggered by water retention around my ankles from the long flight and my discomfort at realizing I was as far from home as I’d ever been, this panic attack had me curled up naked on the bathroom floor with Travel Boyfriend feeding me Xanax and talking me down. After that I resolved to cure myself. I never wanted to feel that way again.

At first I tried talk therapy as well as some tapes I bought from that anxiety infomercial lady, Lucinda Bassett. The talk therapy helped with some other issues, but not the attacks. And I was too lazy to get very far with the tapes. Eventually I just decided to live with the periodic attacks and fear the month of November.

But a little over a year ago, I found out about a hypnotherapist in San Francisco named Angie Choi. Travel Boyfriend and I were just starting to plan our dream trip to Egypt and due to a nightmare I’d had in college, I was convinced something bad was going to happen to me there. In fact, I actually believed I was going to die in Egypt. That thought, coupled with the fact that my panic disorder had also manifested itself into a fear of flying quite inconvenient for a Travel Betty, convinced me to give hypnotherapy a try. Surprisingly after only a couple of sessions with Angie, I was able to take my first flight without Xanax. I couldn’t believe that the fear was gone. It wasn’t just sort of gone, it was completely gone.

Encouraged by that short domestic flight, I started to look as forward to my trip to Egypt as I’d always imagined I would. Angie made me a CD that was specific to my fears about the trip and so armed with that and my comfort bag, I was ready to hit the airport with confidence. The flight over went great and I thought I was cured. But at that point, I’d had yet to fly on Egypt Air.

My first flight on Egypt’s national airline had me gripping the armrests from the moment I stepped onto the decrepit plane. As we were taxiing down the runway for takeoff, the overhead compartments were shaking so violently, I thought they were going to crash down on our heads. I was a wreck and disheartened that I wasn’t totally cured. I was also afraid that this flight scare had dislodged all hypnotic suggestion and that I was destined to a life fearful of flying once again.

Luckily, that turned out not to be the case. Now, I’m about 80/20 with flights, and I rarely have to resort to Xanax anymore. Certain things trigger my fears. Anything that makes my body feel not quite right, like a cold or some unexplained soreness. Also drinking caffeine and especially if I drink alcohol the night before. If I’m even slightly hung over, chances are I’m going to feel afraid on the plane. It’s a bummer that I’m not totally cured, but it’s also so much better than it was before. I can’t imagine having gone to Bali by myself without Angie’s help.

Panic attacks are definitely scary, but being able to recognize them for what they are is a huge leap towards being able to manage them. If any other Betties out there have had positive experiences curing or managing their panic attacks, please feel free to share them in the comments section. That way we can all help each other to be more fearless on the road.

Travel Betty Basics

Unfortunately, the fabulous Angie Choi recently closed her practice, but she recommends Marilyn Gordon for other Travel Betties in need of hypnotherapy in the Bay Area.

What the heck is that, you ask? Well, it’s a mixture of things like ginger, cloves, pepper, nutmeg, rice powder and cinnamon. Like the Balinese Lulur Scrub, this paste is rubbed all over your naked body before you’re wrapped like a spiced cadaver to stew in your own juices. It is said that Boreh improves blood circulation, relieves muscular pains and headaches, and is good for healing the flu. I can’t vouch for all that, but I did enjoy the treatment.

Having been to Putri Bali II for a Lulur Scrub my first week here, I choose to go to Putri Bali I to try the Boreh. I also decide to get a facial since I haven’t yet had one here. Typically I don’t like facials because they hurt, my nose runs and I enjoy popping my own zits, but for $5, I can afford to take a walk on the wild side.

The technician leads me through Putri Bali I’s lush garden to a private hut and starts me off with the facial. My hair is pulled back out of my face with a terry cloth band of questionable cleanliness. Then various lotions and tinctures are applied to my countenance. It’s relaxing, but is also totally something I could do at home and in less time. This isn’t like the pseudo-medical facials I’ve gotten at home from certified estheticians. There is no magnifying glass, no bright lights, no “expressing of facial congestion.” It’s just a down-home face cleanse and that’s alright by me.

After the facial, the real fun begins. I’m given a pair of tourist panties and then the woman rubs the dark brown Boreh paste all over my body. It’s messy as hell and when all is said and done, the term “scat play” comes to mind (sorry, Puritans). It smells nice though and I am wrapped up and left to my thoughts to let the paste really work its magic.

After maybe 10 minutes, I am led to the outdoor bathroom attached to my private hut. The woman tells me to shower before getting into the flower petal bath she has prepared. I heed her instructions, hoping my shower runoff will be turned into some sort of Balinese mulled wine. Then I dip myself into the bath and soak my cares away while sipping hot ginger tea and watching ants scurry around the tub.

Travel Betty Basics

Putri Bali I, Legian, Bali Indonesia
Ambiance: 3.0 out of 5 Passion Fruits
Treatment: 3.5 out of 5 Passion Fruits
Cost: Boreh Scrub 100,000 rupiah (including tax) / Facial 50,000 rupiah (including tax)
What that means in U.S. Dollars: $16.21

Other Betties Blogging About Boreh

Karla, over at Write Sense
Yoyo, of Yoyo The Sheep fame 

Yes, I am the wacko who flew all the way around the world to eat pork at Ibu Oka in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia. Like I said before, it wasn’t my only reason, but it was high up there. I’m a sucker for succulence.  

So, after many months leaving you hanging, I’m sure you’re wondering, was it worth it?

Well, yes and no.

You know how sometimes you spy a stone sexy fox from across the room and quickly create the perfect scenario in your head that he will be an expert lover, a thoughtful listener, a comedian, a high-wage earner, and have a knack for reducing the ever-present tension between you and your mother? All this before you’ve even been able to blurt out a hello? That was the pork.

Then you know how once you do muster the courage to say hello, he responds with a phlegm-filled throat that makes your eyes tear up and once he finally coughs up the sputum, he stutters something about how Republicans rule and then laments his recent impotency? That wasn’t exactly the pork, but you get the point I’m making.

You see, nothing can really ever live up to the idealized perfections we create in our heads. I knew that going in, but still I hoped. Thanks to Anthony Bourdain’s awesome Indonesia show on No Reservations, I had built up the idea of this babi guling so much so, that barring an instant tongue orgasm upon first bite, I had set myself up for disappointment.

But all was not lost. First, I had the months of anticipation to feel grateful for. Sometimes I think that’s better than experiencing the actual thing you’ve been anticipating. When someone at work is giving you a hard time, you can just think, “pork.” When your car breaks down on the highway and your cell phone battery is dead, “pork.” It’s a much better option than gun violence.

Second, to be fair, the babi guling actually was pretty fucking tasty. They give you a healthy heaping of pork parts as well as rice and veggies, and the best part…spicy sauce and crispy piggy skin! Chomp, chomp, yum! All for the ridiculously low price of $3ish. It wasn’t the best pork I’ve ever eaten (that distinction goes to the meal created by Travel Boyfriend’s best friend up in Seattle during one of his annual pig roast parties). But it was up there in the charts.

Would I fly back for a second helping? No. But would I go out of my way to eat it if I ever found myself again on the Isle of the Gods? You betcha. 

So, if you’re already planning a trip to Bali and are looking for the best babi guling on the island, look no further than Ibu Oka. As long as you don’t perfectionize it beforehand like I did, you won’t be disappointed one bit! And even if you do perfectionize it beforehand like I did, you’re still going to get a mouthful of tastiness.

Travel Betty Basics
Ibu Oka
Located just across from the Ubud Tourist Information Center. Go early because once they sell out for the day, they close.
Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

Download Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations Season One

After the very intensive planning process that went into my Egypt adventure, I decided I wanted a trip that required nothing more from me than I land on the tarmac with a smile and a backpack. That I would actually land with a smile and a backpack and a wedding dress came later, but originally I just wanted a warm locale where I could write.

The South Pacific immediately came to mind. I hopped on Vacation Rental By Owner and started to snoop. There were surprisingly very few rentals available on the islands, so I expanded my search. And that’s when I saw the photos of the Villa Naga Maya property in Legian, Bali, Indonesia.

It looked Seussian, magical and high-end without being pretentious. It looked like everything I’d imagined Bali should be and so I inquired about availability. Two days later, I was at the bank wiring the first half of my deposit. (They thankfully now take credit card payment)

For the next few months, every time I got frustrated with the 9-5, I would log onto the website and click through the photo gallery and dream of my impending vacation. I did worry that the actual property would not live up to the professional photographs, but those fears were put aside as soon as I arrived.

Villa Naga Maya appears as a yummy chocolate Easter egg nestled in cellophane grass a few steps down a cobblestone alley (called a ‘gang’ in Bali). Arriving after sunset, my first thought was “Holy shit, I’m going to get mugged by a gang along a gang.” But about 5 seconds after being in the country, you realize it’s just too hot outside for such shenanigans.

I never once felt unsafe walking around my neighborhood even at night and being such a small community, people came to know me and watch out for me. Especially the Villa Naga Maya property owner, Merrick. When Travel Boyfriend came to town, he said, “Wow, it looks like you’ve got a nice group to rely on here. I don’t feel so nervous for you being alone.”

Over the course of the month, the staff of Villa Naga Maya took excellent care of me. My villa was always impeccably cleaned. My clothes were washed promptly and cheaply (although one time, Travel Boyfriend received a pair of mystery underwear by mistake). The grounds were lush and magnificent. The pool the perfect temperature. The sun chairs contoured for maximum relaxation. It didn’t take long for me to imagine this was home and I was surrounded by friends. One day, Merrick even took me on a trip around Denpasar where I ate goat satay and bought bootlegged DVDs.

In hindsight, I might have chosen to hop around the island a bit more instead of staying at one place the whole time. Although I did do a few overnight trips to Ubud and Amed, that meant paying twice in essence since I booked the villa for the entire month.

But, I looked at it as rent money and the sidetrips as the typical weekend getaways I’d partake of in the States anyway. All in all, my stay was excellent and I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Villa Naga Maya to other Betties looking to visit Bali. It lived up to my expectations and then some and I hope that one day, in the not-too-distant future, I will return.

Travel Betty Basics

Villa Naga Maya
Jl. Werkudara Gg. Arjuna 7B
Legian, Kuta, Bali, Indonesia
Phone/Fax: +62 361 763387
Rates: $80-200 per 2-bedroom villa depending on season and length of stay 

When I arrived alone in Bali, Villa Naga Maya had arranged for a driver to pick me up from the airport. The young man was very personable and helpful so I decided I’d probably use him the entire time I was there. But in an “only in Bali” type situation, about a week later I’d come back from Ubud (having taken the Perama tourist bus to save money) only to find my driver’s office not only abandoned, but already being converted into an art gallery. And I’d only been gone two days!! I inquired what happened and a guy standing nearby the shop whispered “bankrupt.”

The problem was, that night I needed to go to the airport to pick up Travel Boyfriend and I was feeling panicky. Now I didn’t have anyone I could trust to get me there and do so for a fair price. I hate to haggle, but I knew it was going to be necessary. The ‘bankrupt’ guy said he had friends who could help, so I followed him to a building not too far away. I explained the situation and the owner told me 150,000 rupiah. No f$#@ing way, that’s like $15 and is about what I paid my first driver for a ½ day trip to Dreamland and Uluwatu. When I protested and tried to do my haggling thing the guy said, “okay, 250,000.” That made me so angry, I left in a huff (which you shouldn’t really do in Bali).

Over lunch I decided maybe I should just puss out and take a cab. Having recently endured some negative transportation issues already in Ubud, I wasn’t feeling particularly keen to track down another driver. But on my way back to the villa, I decided to attempt to find a new driver just once more and if it didn’t work, at least I’d know I’d not given up so easily. And thank god I didn’t because that’s when I found Gusdek, a fantastic driver who ended up being someone I could always count on. And best of all, he was always fair with his pricing.

On the way to the airport and while waiting for Travel Boyfriend’s plane to arrive, we had a lot of time to talk. Like TB and I, he was 40 and his wife was in her early thirties. Also like us, they’d also been together for many years before just recently getting married. He had a really easy going personality, but also a seriousness that made you trust him quickly.

During my remaining 3 weeks, anytime I needed a driver I knew just where to look. He took TB and I up to Ubud, stopping so we could visit many of the craft villages along the way. He even took us to a stonemason friend of his so TB could buy a wicked cool Garuda. And the one time he wasn’t available due to a family emergency, he found two totally fun young guys to drive me and my Singapore friend around the island. I had him waking up early, driving far distances and stopping at any and every shop that caught my fancy and he was always happy to oblige.

It’s so nice when you’re far from home and feeling a little lost and vulnerable to find someone that you not only can count on, but that you can also consider a friend.

So, if you’re in need of a fantastic driver in Bali who speaks very good English and who is knowledgeable about the entire island, you can’t go wrong with Gus!

Travel Betty Basics

Ida Bagus Sumardika (aka. Gusdek)

Office: Kasturi Car & Motor Bike Rental & Tour Service

Pura Bagus Taruna St. No. 516X (near the Kusnadi Hotel)

Legian, Kuta, Bali

Hand Phone: 081 33876 1498

Email: gusdek_2005 [at] yahoo [dot] com

If he’s booked, I’d also highly recommend Putu and Agus who were the drivers who filled in for Gusdek and took us all around the island. They’ll have you laughing your ass off! And Agus can teach you how to surf. They call themselves the Nakula Boys and you can get in touch with Putu by calling his hand phone: 081 91627 4722

If you could have a nice young man travel to your luxurious private villa to perform his grandmother-taught reflexology skills on your fat lounging carcass, wouldn’t you? Me too.

It just so happened that the owner of Villa Naga Maya was having his friend Roy come over to give him a massage. Knowing how crazy I am about massages, he asked if I would like to get one too. Um, yes please.

Roy is serious about his reflex talents. Even though his main trade is exporting antiques (don’t ask). All you have to care about is that he really knows what he is doing.

I told him that my lower back had been hurting a lot and seriously for the next few days the pain is gone. In its place is the bruise-like soreness I feel due to the extreme pressure Roy used to treat me, but still. See he doesn’t speak much English, and tended to giggle when I said the pressure is too hard. After awhile, I just decided to take the abuse and hope that I would be rewarded with a pain-free back. And I was.

Unfortunately, I lost his number so I don’t know how to get in touch with him directly. But if you are in dire need of a private masseur to treat your muscles to something healing for a price that can’t be beat and you either speak Indonesian or don’t mind serious finger pressure OR if you’re looking for Balinese antiques for some reason, you could probably get in touch with Merrick at Villa Naga Maya and inquire politely about Roy. You’ll be sure to make his day.

This being my third time in Ubud and the third time in Ubud that it’s raining, I decide to skip my typical wanderings up and down Monkey Forest Road looking for knickknacks nobody wants or needs and instead head back to Kenko for another amazing foot reflexology treatment. I decide to throw in a manicure too, what the heck.

The male technician I had last time is busy with another customer so this time the pregnant woman performs her magic on my feet. She doesn’t use as much pressure, but it’s still a damn good experience. Worlds better than the “reflexology” I got at Secret Garden Spa in Kuta and universes better than yesterday’s debacle.

A few minutes in, I hear the front door open and an American accent inquires about treatment. I recognize the voice as my friend visiting from Singapore and we have a good laugh about how she so quickly gave up shopping in the rain. It seems Kenko Reflexology really attracts the Americans.

Once my foot massage is done, the woman gives me a manicure and I realize why it says reflexology on the sign outside and not manicure. I try to explain that I want my nails to all be clipped to the same length, but fail in my communications. Then I’m only given one coat of polish. Having chosen a pale shade of pink, I walk out of Kenko with uneven, barely perceptibly painted nails. But damn, my feet feel fantastic!

Travel Betty Basics
Kenko Reflexology
(Jl. Monkey Forest next to Komaneka Resort)
Telephone: (0361)975293
4 other Bali locations
Ambiance: 2 out of 5 Passion Fruits
Reflexology Treatment: 5 out of 5 Passion Fruits
Manicure: 2 out of 5 Passion Fruits
Cost: 80,000 rupiah total
What that means in U.S. Dollars: $8.74

I have often considered myself an introvert. Others would disagree vehemently, but they don’t know how hard I’ve worked to overcome my shyness (which still lurks inside). I am a girl who once spent an entire gorgeous Ohio summer barricaded inside the house watching “Get Smart” and the “I Love Lucy” instead of hanging out with the other kids on the block for fear of generalized humiliation. I don’t know what caused my irrational fear, but it was felt deeply and without question.

So, to flash forward 20+ years to a woman traveling for 3 weeks out of 4 on her own in a country whose language she doesn’t speak, in a culture planets away from anything she knows, and attempting to contact a perfect stranger she met on the internet is to tell that little shy girl a story of an absolute mythical creature she could never understand. Perhaps, a narwhal.

But that’s how life works. Sometimes you find yourself seeking camaraderie in the laugh track underpinning the screwball antics of Agents 86 and 99. And sometimes you find yourself sitting across the table from the delightful German ex-pat named Christian of Nomad4Ever fame. Without a doubt, the latter is a much more enjoyable experience.

I ‘met’ Chris during the research phase of my Bali trip. Always on the hunt for provocative and useful insight into the places I intend to visit, his site easily topped my list for best Bali blog. Although, to be fair, his blog isn’t all just about Bali. It’s about living a life of intention and passion. Chris quit his lucrative IT career a few years back, scaled back his life to the bare essentials and now lives comfortably and vibrantly in Bali, Indonesia. Not bad.

Unfortunately, due to parental visits on his end and wedding planning on mine, we weren’t able to get together in person until 2 days before I was set to fly back to the States. Of course, once we did meet, I was kicking myself for not getting together with him and his lovely fiancé sooner because they were both a treasure trove of Bali knowledge, as well as a completely lovely and charming couple to boot. We literally spent 3 hours each nursing a single drink at Café Mokka, catching up and sharing our thoughts on travel, politics, and life in general.

I went home that night feeling enriched by the experience and encouraged by the knowledge that while it might be the easier route to befriend your television and shut out the world, truly meaningful connections occur when we take the risk to reach out to others and just be ourselves. 

My friend from Singapore and I arrived at the Pertiwi Resort & Spa not an hour before and decided to splurge. Since spa is in the name, I know to expect higher prices than I’ve been paying, but I also figure I can expect an expertly performed massage. Not so.

No, Travel Betty, turn back!

The spa complex is set in the back of the expansive property, near the second pool. There are a couple of private massage huts and even a Jacuzzi (which featured a plethora of dead bugs floating on the water’s surface, Mmmmm!).

The place is empty so we use the spa phone to call up for two massage therapists. After a short wait, one shows up. There are discussions and confusion about needing another therapist and I am turned down for my request for the Boreh scrub and so settle for what they are calling an aromatherapy massage.

My friend is led into her hut while I wait and wait and wait for someone else to show. On the brink of leaving, a woman finally appears.

We walk into the humid, mosquito-filled hut and she goes to work…scratching her mosquito bites. Seriously, for about 10 minutes she is so itchy, she basically just scratches herself while keeping one hand on my back. That hand doesn’t move, but I’m pretty sure the woman still defines what she is doing as “giving a massage.” Finally I can tell by the pressure that she is giving her bites the ol’ Hot Cross Buns and soon after, her attention seems to turn at least minimally more towards our shared purpose.

During this whole production, I am focused on a bowl of water placed on the ground below my face rest. In it floats a single yellow flower. The way the evening’s light is coming in through the window, it looks like a brilliant still life painting. I decide that even though the massage is crap, I can enjoy the simple beauty of this scene.

For a brief moment, I allow my eyes to close. I hear a loud thump and splash. Opening my eyes, I see that the therapist has tripped over my still life. Water covers the floor and the flower clings to the side of the bowl like a desperate Titanic victim. There goes that.

A few minutes later, when all of the light has drained from the hut, my therapist leaves me to fumble around for a light switch. She fumbles. And fumbles. And fumbles. And can’t find one. Or at least one that works. Then she comes back to me distracted. After another minute of massage, she leaves me again for more fumbling.

Finally, she hears that my friend is done with her massage and goes out to grab the other therapist to help her locate a switch. Together they folly around until a light source is discovered.

Face-up now, I am blasted by a shot of bright fluorescent light. I open my eyes and see the therapist gazing down at my watch in her hands and I think, “Yeah, me too sister.”

The time ticks by slowly, but finally she says, “Finished. Good?”

“Yes,” I say. And it’s the truth. It’s good that it’s finished.

Travel Betty Basics

Pertiwi Resort & Spa
Monkey Forest St, Ubud, Bali, Indonesia
Phone: 62 361 975236
Ambience: 2 out of 5 passion fruits
Treatment: 1 out of 5 passion fruits
Cost: US $20 with 10% discount for being hotel guest