When we arrive at the rice fields, we see some pretty thick clouds rolling in. This doesn’t bode well, but I know that showers during the rainy season are often intense but short-lived; they also help cool things down a bit and relieve the humidity, so I don’t mind them too much. Unlike in the Netherlands, where it often lasts for days on end—dark, cold, and windy. I don’t mind rain, as long as it’s in a warm country.
I set up my “robot arm”—a phone mount for taking cool videos—and that’s when it starts: it’s pouring. I keep walking, and Big Daddy advises me not to take the path downhill but to stay up high; the other path takes a long time, and I’ll end up completely soaked. There are some fun swings that let you swing over the rice paddies and make for great photos. I actually kind of enjoy doing that, but the weather is getting worse and worse, so I decide to take shelter from the rain.
But after 10 minutes, I realize this isn’t going to stop anytime soon, so we decide to head back to the car. He asks me if I’d like to do a tea tasting. He says it’s indoors because it’s raining so hard. Great idea! On the way, he tells me that they also produce Luwak coffee there. Coffee made from the droppings of an animal: the Luwak. This animal is called a cat and lives in the jungle. He explains that people go into the jungle to collect Luwak droppings to make coffee from them. Of course, this is just the first step in a whole process. It’s expensive coffee because it involves a lot of labor—searching through the jungle—and I ask if the animals are truly free-roaming. His answer is yes. Then I’m interested in trying the coffee. The tasting is held in a beautiful setting. I’m welcomed with an umbrella by a sweet young woman who takes me along and tells me more about the production process. She shows me how the droppings are collected, how they’re processed, and the traditional methods used. She also shows me that they produce other teas and coffees in a variety of flavors. We walk on, and she seats me at a table where the tasting is served. She says she’ll be right back with the coffee and tea, but I spot something that catches my eye—it’s moving and quite large. Secretly, I find it kind of scary. It’s a big spider with long legs that are black and white. They’re striped, which I think makes it even scarier. It’s busy in its web but decides to climb up and stay right above my head. I can’t help but keep looking up to see if it’s coming down after all. I ask the waitress if it’s dangerous, but she doesn’t know. I just keep keeping an eye on it.
There’s thunder and lightning, and it lingers for a long time around the valley. The tea tasting features various flavors; she explains that it’s not actually tea, since it’s not made from leaves. It’s hot water with mango, ginger, or other spices. The coffees include regular varieties, as well as those flavored with vanilla and other spices. She also serves Luwak coffee, and to be honest, I don’t think it’s fit to drink. I’ve been trying for a long time to describe the taste, but it’s impossible. It’s very sour, but she says this is due to the Arabica beans used to make the coffee. I don’t want another sip of this, let alone take any home with me. I strike up a conversation with her about life here in Bali and ask her if there are any other monkeys. Big Daddy said there aren’t, and that they only live in parks like Monkey Forest. She says there are! She’s already seen several species in the jungle, and she’s not happy about it. She doesn’t like animals at all, and I can sense her fear. The monkeys sometimes come to the tasting area and mingle with the guests, sipping the tea and hissing or growling at them. The monkeys there are dark, whereas the ones in Monkey Forest are gray; they’re also a lot bigger and broader. It’s a shame I can’t see them, but they’re staying nice and sheltered from the rain.
As we walk back toward the car, I pass a little shop. I decide to pick up some vanilla coffee and mango tea, and I ask her if I can bring them into Australia. She tells me that the coffee has been processed, so it’s allowed. Raw materials aren’t allowed. I take a chance and bring them along. She asks if I’m still interested in the Luwak coffee, but I politely decline. It’s undrinkable!
Next, we pass a cage, and to my horror, there are two Luwaks inside. I was convinced they didn’t live in captivity, but it turns out these two do. I immediately regret having drunk the coffee.
The puddles on the grounds have gotten bigger and deeper, and my shoes—and I—are now soaked through. It’s getting really cold in these wet clothes, so Big Daddy turns up the AC a bit. Our last stop is a temple. He asks if I’d like to visit a touristy one or a less touristy one. I choose the less touristy one, and because of the heavy rain, it turns out to be completely empty as well. I’ve seen pictures of this temple before, and it caught my eye—as it happens, we’re here now. But if you’ve known me for a while, you know that I don’t believe in coincidence—only the Law of Attraction. I have to put on a sarong because my dress is too short to visit the temple respectfully. Fortunately, they’re well-prepared for tourists, and there’s a rack of sarongs you can borrow. I wrap it around my waist so it reaches my ankles. The temple is completely open again this time—there’s no inner sanctuary, but everything is clearly visible and accessible.
I’m greeted by quacking ducks that waddle cheerfully across the grass and feast on whatever food they can find there. If you’ve seen a few more pictures of Bali, you know there are lots of ducks near the rice fields. The area is teeming with insects, frogs, and other tasty treats that they feast on as soon as the rice is harvested. This temple also has a purification pool where, through rituals, people are cleansed and can wash away their sins. I’d love to dip my hands in for a moment, but I think that would be disrespectful, so I decide to do it in my mind instead. Since I’m already soaking wet—right down to my underwear and with my sneakers squelching with water—I take the time to get a good look at the temple; all by myself, I now have every opportunity to do so.
The place is beautifully surrounded by greenery and tranquility, with various altars, statues, and open spaces. As we drive back, we arrive exactly four hours later, just as predicted. What a wonderful day that was—and it’s not over yet. Back at the hotel, I first take a hot shower, take off all my wet clothes, and let my shoes dry so I can put them back on later and head into town. I want to walk there, but since the cloud—which had initially descended on us in the mountains—has moved down toward the city, I take a taxi. The cloud has followed us, so it’s now pouring rain here too. This time, I’m heading to a beautiful clothing store I’ve been following on Instagram for a while. The clothes they make are truly gorgeous—a bit pricey, but only available in Ubud or online. I’m a bit nervous about ordering online in case it doesn’t look good or fit right, so I’m heading there in person. It turns out to be quite a drive after all, and I’m glad I didn’t walk there. On the map, it looked like it was somewhere completely different than it actually is. It turns out to be in the Russian neighborhood. Many Russians live here and tend to stay for about 10 years. The driver drops me off, and I’m in luck because the store just opened a short while ago. The clothes are exactly as I expected, and I’m having a hard time choosing. I decide to buy a dress and a top and skip the skirt—isn’t that enough?! But a little while later, I go back to pick up the skirt. It’s too nice of a set to pass up. I pay, and the total comes to 6,400,000. Wow! I’m just spending millions here! I know the scale is huge and, of course, it’s not millions in euros, but even though I’m spending a few million here—knowing it should be a maximum of 400 euros—I feel resistance. I feel resistance to spending so much (millions). If it were in euros, I wouldn’t have felt this resistance. It’s interesting for my money mindset to see how this affects me. That’s also why I passed on the skirt earlier—it just seemed like way too many millions. I’m going to really think this resistance through: why is it that I find it hard to spend 400 euros—which converts to 6,400,000—while I didn’t feel this resistance when thinking in euros, even though they’re both the same? Do I not think I’m worth millions? Do I think it’s too much? I’m going to really tune into this soon to figure out what’s going on. If you want to become a millionaire, you have to act like one; you have to feel the way you would feel if you were a millionaire. And now it’s becoming clear to me that, because of the resistance I’m feeling right now, I’m not a millionaire yet. Wow, what an eye-opener. I’m going to work on this over the next two weeks—in two weeks, I’ll be heading back to Bali on my way back to the Netherlands, and I’m going to see how my mindset has improved when it comes to spending millions. I’ll have to go back to that store again, just to see how it goes—haha, what a tedious task I’ll have then. Everything you need for manifestation.
The building where the store is located turns out to be next-level, too—there’s a lot of Russian being spoken, and I get the high-end, next-level vibe of the building and the stores. This is definitely good for my money mindset! It just keeps coming at me, so I decide to pop into a cute café around the corner to order a delicious salad and a unicorn latte. I do notice, though, that there aren’t many taxis around, so I decide to look into options like Uber—but Uber doesn’t operate here; instead, there’s a similar service called Grab. There are plenty of drivers on scooters or motorcycles, though. We’ll pass on that—luckily, the car is just around the corner, so I can head back to the hotel to wrap up the day with some meditation and a sleeping pill, since my alarm goes off at 6:30 a.m. and I need a good night’s sleep for the fun day ahead tomorrow!
