Sanctuary from The Mad World
Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what's for lunch. - Orson Welles

A special entry for a special place.

There are millions of accommodations in Bali but I was determined to find ‘the one’.  It had to have an uninterrupted view of the ocean at an affordable price and Yoga classes on the premises.  It had to be unique and not part of a hotel chain.  I refused to share my holidays with bratty children each followed by their nannies while mummies were busy face-booking on their blackberries.  Amenities such as air conditioning and hair dryer were of no importance as long as there was a decent lap pool.  After months of tedious searching -gooling villa and uluwatu led me to those tasteless yet pricy villas- I came across Mu which I termed Bvlgari Hotel’s view at a fraction of the cost. 

The resort was beautiful despite the yellowed web pictures.  After parking our car on a small graveled parking lot (very Provence, by the way), we entered through a narrow wooden Balinese gate, perched on a step, onto a stone path leading to a garden dotted with coconut trees and frangipanis.  Along the way, we passed by a Pétanque court -indicating the owner’s nationality -  across the small office / internet room.  A badminton net was stretched between two coconut trees.  The lush garden opened up to the sky and plunged into the Indian Ocean.  As I breathed in the warm ocean scent, I could hear the low-gurgle of the waves.  Mu was perfect.

Small with only nine bungalows, the resort had a gym/yoga platform, a pool and jacuzzi, a bar (stuffed with beer) and a kitchen.  Dining area was a long wooden table plumped with pillows under a frangipani.  We chose the ‘Cliff Bungalow’ which afforded the most privacy and the uninterrupted ocean view from the bed as it was carved into a cliff.   While one of the ladies explained the house-rule, I opened up the various wooden wardrobes and trunks.  I found a metal and rubber contraption.

"What is this?"
"Oh, it’s a slingshot" she explained.  "You use it to ward off monkeys."
"HUH?!!  MONKEYS?!! Where is the ammunition?" I looked around for things to throw.
"You can use of one of those pebbles" she said pointing to the ground beneath the bamboo fence.  "But don’t worry, they come only once a week."
"Have they made their visit this week?" asked my grinning husband.  I glared at him.

Continuing with the house-rule, breakfast was included in the price.  Drinking water was free and available from the kitchen.  All possessions, including soaps and towels, had to be stored in the trunks at all times.  Turn-down service, when the ladies put up the mosquito net and lighted up the mosquito coil, would be done at about 4 PM.

Perched on a platform, getting on and off the bed without disturbing the mosquito net was a challenge.  However, while sitting there, we stared straight into the imposing Indian Ocean.  We fell asleep to the rushing sound of the waves.  The fridge was from another era and the floor fan creaked.  There was no hairdryer but there was a small ancient safe where we kept our valuables.  At night, the place was lighted with yellow bulbs bright enough for reading. 

A few steps from the bed, we arrived at our own private terrace.  With two mattresses, it would be the perfect place for lounging but there was never much sunshine on the terrace that we ended up at the pool all the time.

The bathroom was open with the view of the vast ocean.  I finally experienced bathing while watching the ocean, a story I’ve read so many times in travel magazines. Water spurted out of a single piece of cut bamboo but pressure was good.  Sink was airplane-sized but adequate.  There was another trunk filled with clean towels and other amenities. 

We decided to have two dinners -tasty albeit toned-down Balinese cuisine- on the premises.  On both occasions, we dined with the owner and some of his friends who stayed over.  The breakfast at Mu was memorably delicious.  The last time we ate so well and tasted croissant so fine was during our holiday in Provence.  Little surprise though as Mu’s owner does hail from Marseilles which explains all the Provencal touches in this tropical refuge.  Freshly baked little croissant and pain-au-chocolat (oblong-shaped pastry with chocolate core) accompanied baguette with butter and home-made jam, fresh juice, fresh fruits, French-pressed, properly-made coffee, and eggs of any style upon request.  We always opted for their omelet. 

Mu is located on top of a cliff west of the famous Dreamland beach.  Treking (or more accurately, crawling) down a series of steep steps down for about 15 minutes brings you to a rocky beach.  It may even be possible to walk to Dreamland but judging from the topography, it’s not for amateurs.  Finding Mu for the first time can be a challenge as it is deep the privately-owned woods shared by other ‘warung sufers’.

In-house activities such as yoga and gym with qualified teachers are offered.  We followed the Yoga classes the three days we were here as it was convenient to wake up and do yoga before breakfast and heading out.  Other stuffs such as spa and massage can also be arranged.  Most of the time when we were in the resort though, we spent our time staring into the ocean.

We love Mu.  The place is full of character and fulfills our holiday needs.  Other guests informed me that Mu is known only through words of mouth among the French.  It is certainly not everyone’s cup of chai.  There was no posh restaurants and sleek lounges.  Service was understated and not indulgent.  Luxury equaled to the magnificent view and not the Ipod dock or flat screen TV.  If you’re looking for a charming piece of Bali with a slice of Provencal hospitality, Mu is worth every Euro. 

By the way, we did meet the monkeys.  One morning, I was up early so I read on bed listening to the ocean sound marred by my husband’s snores.  I heard footsteps on the roof.  It was impossible for people to be on the straw-thatched roof without falling straight onto our bed so it had to be the monkeys.  Just as the realization dawned on me, I saw a big one on the fence.  I screamed.  My husband woke in a start and his sight was immediately trained to the monkey.  He too screamed.

He quickly stepped out of the mosquito net and hollered primitively.  He grabbed the slingshot and picked a few stones, gruffing everywhere to ensure safety while I sat nervously inside the protective mosquito net.  These monkeys were everywhere!  He jumped up and down, threw a few stones, ran the length of the bungalow while continued yelling to chase away the brood.  I later asked him whether it was truly necessary to make so much noise.  He said, "They need to know that this is MY territory." I think he fancied himself as a (monkey) character in the Planet of the Apes.