The Ubud Crisis

Have you heard of Ubud?  I hadn't, until I read my guidebook to Bali and learned that it was a major artistic and cultural stop on the Bali tourist trail.  

Pictures of Ubud looked wonderful and we were at that point where we had decided that every holiday out here shouldn't just be about the beach. The children are now old enough I feel to be subjected to a bit of culture and Ubud was a short hop from the airport and the beach.  The perfect cultural break for three to four days getting away from the udder sporting Cujo's, hair wraps and leathery skin.  I will leave you to work out whether I am talking about the tourists or the dogs. 

I also learned that Ubud featured significantly in the book "Eat, Pray, Love" and the movie of the same name, which starred Julia Roberts.  I have not read the book but have seen short clips of the movie so I was unsurprised to see the majority of tourists to Ubud were young couples making a little cultural stop, the fledgling writer (as the Ubud literary festival was taking place when we were there) and the remaining 90% of lone forty something pouting women in flowery skirts carrying a big camera with a big lens and strolling around with a wry smile on their faces.

Our main joy on holiday is to people watch.  We get little time for this with the children these days but we are beginning to catch a few opportunities to stare and comment when the kids are goggle eyed playing Angry Birds.   Therefore, how my husband and I hooted with laughter every time we saw the cliche on legs that is a lady on her own wearing a moomoo, carrying a journal and staring into space while eating some nasi campur.

I have to hold my hand up as the most cynical of the Witch and Warlock that we are on holiday, who scoffed about the ladies of a certain age trying to "find themselves" in Ubud. Probably after a divorce, maybe hoping to fall in love with a rugged expat masseuse who has made a serene life for himself in Ubud after throwing in the towel working in high finance in New York and opened up a rustic bed and breakfast looking after people with great hospitality between meditation and toning his finely tanned physique practising tantric yoga.

Yet, after a couple of days of leaving Ubud and arriving in Sanur which was the sun and sand end of our trip to Bali I really was yearning for Ubud.  And that was because I am nearly forty and I do really like massages and taking photographs and strolling and shopping in markets for colourful skirts and tiny bottles of perfume made from local flowers and if I could find a partner who would at least be willing to do yoga with me than ask whether he should take his Kindle to his first massage I would most certainly jack in my current life and run off to Ubud for a wonderful, beautiful, cultural and peaceful midlife crisis. 

I mean, if you are going to have a nervous breakdown, you might as well do it somewhere pretty.