We’ve been doing our Eat Pray Love Bali tour for almost 3 years now, and over time, we’ve changed it up a bit, based on feedback and our own experiences. Here’s what we’re doing on our September (and probably future) tours!

Our Welcome Dinner in “Italy” has moved to Ubud! Though we had some incredible experiences and wonderful meals at the Amanusa’s Italian Restaurant, Bali traffic can be truly unbelievable.  We’ve moved the welcome dinner to the more accessible  Terazo Restaurant in Ubud, where we’re working with the executive chef to prepare a custom meal with Italian wines – of course, on the Eat Pray Love Bali tour we will end with Tirami su for dessert, unless your taste runs more to local sorbets. Passion fruit, anyone?

Next, we’re trying something new with our hotel.  Honestly, we really looked hard at the Ubud Inn, where book author Elizabeth Gilbert stayed when she was writing about Bali.  Despite stunning grounds, we were just underwhelmed with the rooms, and didn’t love the location.  It’s in very busy Monkey Forest Road, set too close to the street.  We wanted something more tranquil, even in the heart of Ubud’s bustle.  The Pertiwi Resort & Spa seemed like a great spot for our Eat Pray Love Bali tour, and it’s located a little further along Monkey Forest Road,.  However, we may also return on future trips to our beloved Alila Hotel – the staff and the food and the environment are really incomparable!

Another big shift is in the temples we’ve chosen.  We teach our guests how to pray like the Balinese, and show them what to wear and how to wear it so that we can enter the inner sanctuary of each temple, and be blessed by the local Pedanda, or priest (who is sometimes a woman, which I just love!) On every other Eat Pray Love Bali tour, we’ve gone to Besakih Temple — called the Mother Temple, it’s nestled at the base of Mount Agung, about a 3 hour ride from Ubud. So this trip, we decided instead to visit our very favorite temple, Tirta Empul. It’s a delightful day trip (about a 2-hour drive) to the pool where all the sacred waters in Bali are gathered for the local temples.

Tirta Empul is an incredible experience, and we are often the only non-Balinese woshippers!   We’ve even witnessed a Balinese exorcism here. We can go into the streams and be cleansed during our Eat Pray Love Bali tour, under each of the 13 rushing fountains – an amazing experience of bliss.

Of course, we’ve still got the visit to Ketut Liyer, to Wayan the healer, to a pizza restaurant that will make you think you’re eating your Margarita ‘za in Napoli, yoga and meditation to make you feel like you’re in India (for an hour at least!) and even spa treatments at the very spot where the film crew for Eat Pray Love got all their massages.  It will be another incredible tour – I hope you can join us!

Did you read “Eat Pray Love”?  Do you want to meet with a famous Balinese Shaman?  Ketut Liyer, thanks to the best-selling book, “Eat Pray Love”, has found himself catapulted to fame and at least some small fortune as the most important Balian on an island of very spiritual people.  And earlier this year, Spirit Quest Tours was in Bali for two weeks with a group of 35 American tourists, many of whom had read the book and were hoping to meet Ketut.  Luckily, our Balinese guide knew him, and where he lived, and I was able to send him over to Ubud to set up an afternoon for our group to see him.

What is a Balian?  The Jakarta Post, Indonesia’s local paper, defines many different types of Balian or holy man.  ”[One type of Balian] are called balian tulang or bone setters. There are many other types of balian – shaman or traditional healers. There are the balian uwut, the name originating from urat or muscle, which refers to a masseur who has mastered the traditional knowledge of human anatomy and is capable of healing muscle strains or any other bodily stiffness.  The Balinese also recognize balian ushada (shamans whose traditional medicinal knowledge is based on ancient lontar or papyrus inscriptions) and balian tenung (soothsayers who spiritually heal people affected by black magic).  The balian uwut, especially, still play a significant role in traditional Balinese medicine. Despite the fact modern doctors are practicing in rural areas, people still choose to go to balian uwut for help.”

Of all of these types of Balian, The Balian Tenung is the one that most accurately describes Ketut Liyer, not the least because he is over 80 years old (no one I asked, including Ketut himself, had an exact age for him) and cannot perform the physical requirements of massage or bone setting.

Ketut’s home is a typical Balinese compound, a gathering of buildings which are situated North, South, East and West, and a big open pavilion at the center with a low bed or sofa.  Ketut meets people under a smaller side pavilion, and the waiting group sits under another open area – in our case, we brought about 30 people with us, so it was a large group hanging around, and Ketut saw us in twos.  According to Liz Gilbert, author of “Eat Pray Love”, Ketut complained that the lack of tourists in Bali a few years ago led to him being “empty in his pocketbook.” I do not think that is much of a problem now.  People come to see him every day – the big issue is making sure we don’t completely tire him out.

He smiles a lot, but when you take a picture of him, he is quick to point out that he is ugly (he is not, in fact, just mostly toothless and quite old, so sweet and charming).  Ketut’s English is heavily accented, and his voice raspy.  The combination makes it hard to understand him, even with our Balinese guide helping with the translation, and Ketut speaking English.  One of our group was asked to show him her back, and as she turned around, Ketut nodded sagely, running his hand across her shoulder.  ”Mah dick,” he kept saying.  ”Good for mah dick.” Oh, we were all in a tither over that one, our eyes darting from person to person as we assessed the situation. Was he really saying what we thought he was?  Could Ms. Gilbert have neglected to mention that Ketut was rude, and made passes at the female guests right in the middle of a reading?  Suddenly, the light dawned.  ”Magic,” I practically shouted, patting my client reassuringly on the arm.  ”He says you have good magic!”  Our traveler nodded vigorously, looking relieved.  ”Ohhh. Thank you, Ketut!” Ketut’s head bobbed a few times.  ”Yes,” he rasped.  ”Good mah dick!”

Every person in our group gets a palm reading and is told the same thing – you are smart, and you will live to be 100 (after looking at your lifeline).  But I got to sit in on all the readings, and there were many other variations.  Ketut will talk about some interesting things – your sex life, your work, your need to be married (or not!) and sometimes he will ask you to turn around so he can look at your back.  He did not give anyone in our group the kind of invitation that set Elizabeth Gilbert on the path to her enlightenment, “Come live with me here in Bali” but he did say a remarkable number of things that resonated with our guests.  In fact, several people said it was the highlight of their trip!

The other thing that was wonderful about the compound was Ketut’s family – one of his sons and two of his granddaughters were there, selling wood pieces the son had carved, and the little girls showing off their school drawings.  We were so impressed by the art, we actually asked to buy some of the girls’ paintings, which were extremely colorful and original pieces, and they were thrilled to sell them to us.  And outside the compound, a few doors down, was a school with about 15 little boys and girls.  We spoke with some of them while we were waiting our turn, and eventually they shyly poked their heads into the compound.  Posing for pictures, they grew bolder and bolder, until all of them were hanging, grinning, around the door frame and waving at the American tourists and our myriad cameras.

Back for my turn with Ketut Liyer, he told me my husband and I would be together for a long time, which I have suspected myself ;->  We promised to bring all our groups back to see him, as long as he feels healthy enough to do so.  Then he winked at me.  ”See you later, Alligator!” Wow.  This was Liz Gilbert territory. And I knew just how to respond: “After a while, Crododile!”

*** Spirit Quest Tours is offering Eat,Pray, & Love Bali – a tour that will pay homage to the best-selling book, Eat, Pray, Love, in May, 2010.  http://www.spiritquesttours.com/bali

I am sitting in the stunning, airy bar of my gorgeous Balinese hotel and I am sweating… a lot.  I’ve just had a ten-minute walk, the slow, meandering kind, but it has still taken its toll in the sticky, humid weather.  There is a delicate balance here between freshly showered and breaking out in a full, glorious dancer’s sweat and I am hoping to find it.  Like the heroine of “Eat, Pray, Love”, I have come to Bali searching for balance. 

It’s a challenge, because I am not exactly here on vacation.  My partner Greg and I lead spiritual tours to sacred sites around the world, and Bali is high on many people’s lists. So we are working. Managing a group of 35 American travelers, to be exact.  This is not as hard as it sounds, if you take into consideration the group dynamic of “one mind.”  I never thought I would want to travel with a group until I first took a spiritual tour myself.  But when I did I understood the tremendous power of shared intention.

We are traveling in Bali for two weeks, visiting temples almost every day. The emphasis is on pilgrimage, yes, but also on poolgrimage, its sister, spagrimage, and their close cousin, shopgrimage.  At least the group is balanced.  Our little band of Americans is made up of some real sports.  They have bought their temple clothes – the sarong, sash, white shirt, and (for the men) headdress – indicating the devout intentions of a Balinese worshipper.  They go to the temples and learn how to pray like the Balinese Hindus.  They clasp their hands in Namaste (not unlike our good old-fashioned American “prayer hands”) and hold them up – first to their foreheads, for the gods, then to their hearts, for our human selves.  They wash their faces in incense smoke, toss flower petals in the air and tuck them behind their ears.  They eat uncooked grains of rice (to suppress base desires) and are doused with holy water by “Pamungku,” the Balinese priests who accept our offerings and lead us in prayer. For two weeks, they give their lives over to the search for something greater.

Of course it’s not all the earnest work of devotion.  We are staying at the Maya Ubud, and a more integrated balance between luxurious four star service and raw nature I cannot imagine.  The whole property is a lush tropical garden, set among the rice paddies of Ubud, itself the artistic heart of Bali. The lawns are well-manicured, but even the team of gardeners working seven days a week can barely hold back the jungle of local plants, huge trees, and bright colorful splashes of flowers.  The Maya has a deeply organic feel from the moment you approach the front entrance, a huge thatched roof covering the open space and pavilion, which is inspired by the design of traditional Balinese “bale” and family compounds.  A wooden walkway slices through flowing water to the lobby, where the soaring thatch ceiling is grounded by a circular glass floor at the center, lit from below and filled with objets d’antique from Bali’s ancient past. 

The staff welcomes you, with more than passable English; their enthusiasm for your comfort makes their meaning even clearer.  When my group arrives, our cooling welcome drink and room keys are accompanied by the spa brochures I requested.  The energy in the room is palpable as everyone chatters excitedly about the treatments, the design.  By the next morning, the spa is booked for three days solid by our happy assembly.

Greg and I are staying in a pool villa, one of 34 that stretch out in neat rows ringed by the ever-abundant plant life.  Walking to our room for the first time, I see five different types of butterfly.  When we slide open the teak doors to our room, we are transported into another level of beauty.  Here, too, the roof is thatched in the traditional Balinese fashion, the neat rows of dried grass clearly visible high overhead.  We have a 4-poster bed with filmy cotton mosquito netting draped charmingly on the bedposts.  Our bath is an oversized hammered aluminum affair with a view of the private garden. 

Outside, facing the bathroom, is a small plunge pool, filled to overflowing with cool clear water.  The sticky humidity has already taken its toll; as soon as the bags are delivered to our room, I strip off my clothes and take a bracing plunge into the pool.  There isn’t much room to swim, but it is enough. During our stay, I use the pool three or four times a day, looking up into the blue sky, enjoying the view of the Ti plants and verdant jungle that envelops me.  Once, I see a huge snail, bigger than my index finger, gliding up a three-foot leaf, his antennae waving cautiously as he explores what comes next.  I want to be that snail while I am here, concerned only with what is just in front of me, but tour leaders don’t get much vacation time.

Ensuring that all the guests are happy, well taken care of, and that their myriad questions are answered, leaves little time for personal pursuits.  But every morning, I do manage to find some time to myself. One day, I make my way over to the 7:30am yoga class, taught thoughtfully by a smiling Balinese man named Gina.  Despite being both fit and flexible, Gina is patient with those who have never done this before, or who cannot touch their toes.  He encourages balance, forward bends counteracted by backwards ones, the left side worked on exactly as much as the right.  It is just what I need to hear. Another morning I follow the signs that say “nature walk”, down the steep mossy steps to a stone Balinese bathing fountain, past a splashing waterfall, along the river which marks the edge of the Maya property.  I walk past plants whose leaves unfurl so large over my head that I could take shelter in a rainstorm.  I see geckos and lizards, blue birds with orange throats, red-winged dragonflies.  I feel so far away from my life back home, so blissfully surrounded by ways of life I usually don’t take time to see.

On the last day of our trip, we have given the group the whole day off.  We will gather in the evening for our spectacular farewell dinner (150 dancers and a four course Balinese meal) but today, Greg and I are going to the spa.  Having toured the place my first morning, visiting both the individual and couples suites, I have booked the newest couples suite, which faces the river, two stories down.  In addition to the two massage tables, it has a resting pavilion, a round aluminum bathtub big enough for both of us, private lockers, and outdoor side-by-side showers, all under the high thatched roof that I have come to think of as the Maya’s signature design.   This is where we will spend the next two hours.

While Greg gets foot reflexology, I begin with a Balinese massage.  It is similar to what I am used to in any massage, but the strokes are longer and the tiny girl never exerts too much or too little pressure, using only her hands.  Draping is observed, and I never feel like I am showing too much skin at any one time.  The sound of the river stands in for the usual spa music, and I am transported to a place of tranquil rest, the soft breeze occasionally wafting the smell of the jasmine oil the masseuse uses.  As Greg moves into a Balinese massage, I receive a ginger and tangerine body scrub (my other options included something that smelled decidedly like curry).  This is unlike any other scrub I have had – a powder is rubbed into each body part and then brushed off, taking the dead skin, but causing no discomfort.  Afterwards, the therapist slathers my whole body in fresh yoghurt and directs me to the outdoor shower.

As she leaves, she puts her hands into Namaste, and I respond in the same manner.  This means, “May the God in me greet the God in thee.”  Talk about balance! Balinese pray many times a day and their prayers are deeply joyous and beautifully integrated into their lives.  The taxicab driver wants to talk to you about Spirit; so does the hotel manager and the woodcarver.  They all have stories about their lives that involve their spirituality.  They all want to know what you believe and share what they believe — not to argue with you, but because their belief system embraces God as everything, in everything, in all facets of their lives, beyond death, beyond rebirth.  This is reflected in their architecture, in their love of color, in their ubiquitous offerings of flowers and fruit, even in their spa design.

By now it’s mid-morning and I stand under the warm water, enjoying the sun on my face and body, the sounds of the river, the rich scents of the forest.  Greg joins me, hinting that the backyard at home might need remodeling into a Balinese garden, complete with outdoor showers.  I wash my hair with jasmine shampoo, then we both step into the bergamot scented lime bath that has been drawn for us, the tub filling over the past hour and now topped with dozens of local flowers – hibiscus and frangipani.  As we relax for twenty minutes I reflect on the trip, on balance.  At least these few hours, taking some “personal-me time” has given me peace.  For our group, they are happy with the trip, delighted with the hotel and spa.  For me… well, we get to return at least twice more this year, bringing other groups.  It’s all a balancing act; the trick is to take the time where you can, and to enjoy every minute.  Bali has reminded me of this and I will take the feeling home with me until I return.