It is this last one, Bali, that I was privileged to visit recently. I have long wanted to go to Bali, ever since my father traveled there, almost three decades ago, and came back raving about this lovely little island with its soaring volcanoes and silent, dark lakes, the fertile, sun-splashed rice fields and the lush forests alive with the sounds of gibbering monkeys, the famous beaches and beautiful women. But what attracted him the most were the temples that graced every part of the island - on the roadsides, by the sea, in rice fields, next to rivers, in caves - many of them little more than simple shrines, adorned with a humble offering of freshly-plucked flowers and a few grains of rice. The people, he said, were gentle and always smiling, following rituals, practices and a way of life that seemed timeless, evergreen. I was smitten. More....
