On a Friday morning I set out on the road of the big trucks for Tabanan’s southwest coast. My destination was a secluded gourmet food resort called the Damai (meaning “peace”), acclaimed for its distinctive restaurant on the top of a mountain overlooking the north coast of Bali. At Antosari, I turned on to what must be the most stunning long road in all of Bali which clings to the western slopes of Mt. Batukaru. Starting from sea level and climbing to 800 meters through the cool-weather town of Pupuan, this sparsely used road heads directly north into a coffee, clove and rice growing region of towering trees, small timber mills, mountainous piles of copra, and tiers upon tiers of magnificent rice fields.
When I arrived at the Damai in the early afternoon, I was handed the first of many gastronomic surprises I was to experience over the next several days - a non-alcoholic iced drink of unusual color and flavor – the Mojitea - consisting of mashed limes, mint and ginger mixed with syrup, honey, white tea and apple juice. Definitely not your typical oversweet Balinese welcome drink. From the resort’s open-air restaurant above the lobby, the highest building in the vicinity, I could see valleys thick with palm trees, the shimmering Java Sea beyond and even smoking Mount Ijen and four other deep purple volcanoes looming up in faraway east Java. The lawns were decorated with megalithic lingga, Sumba sculpture and giant stone water jars. After checking in, I walked down a stairway that plunged deep into a valley, then onto a long covered bridge over a river that ultimately led down a winding path to one of the Damai’s new villas with an impressive collection of ethnographica, handsome wooden interior and outdoor pool surrounded by thick jungle. What ever possessed the owner to build a resort here?
The Evolution of a Culinary Landmark
The Damai’s genesis story is similar to those of many foreign-owned businesses on Bali. That is, nothing was planned. A tourist comes to Bali, is struck by the island’s beauty and friendliness, and decides to build a holiday villa for himself. In the case of Nils Normann, he was the first bule to build anything up on this hill. A punk rocker in the 1980s who later made his fortune in advertising, Nils found that he could rent his house out when he was back in his native Denmark. Entrepreneurial by nature, it naturally occurred to him to expand. This, in spite of everyone telling him not to build a hotel way up in the hills. “Guests would never come,” they said.
Over the next 13 years, the original getaway home mushroomed into a small boutique resort, a spa for couples who want a world to themselves, and a restaurant of international repute. (For comparison’s sake, Ubud’s world famous Mozaic was established four years after the Damai.) Attracted by the cool altitude and the phenomenal views, an increasing number of foreigners have since built houses in the area, turning the surrounding ridges into the Beverly Hills of Lovina. The price of land has gone up 3000-4000%. Nils initially bought only 60 are and has since been paying dearly for his shortsightedness by having to purchase piecemeal bits of land at highly inflated prices which increase the closer the land is to his hotel – the class act of Lovina. Land on the Damai’s mountain ridge in the little village of Kayuputih costs almost double what it does on the next practically identical ridge. “But Pak, you must realize the land is very expensive because it’s so close to Damai,” he was told.
Unspoiled Version of Bali
Now Nils extreme-commutes between Bali and Europe, coming every six-seven weeks and staying 3-4 weeks. He is a passionate spokesperson for the unique physical and cultural assets of northern Bali. “I like the north because it is rural and authentic. Singaraja, our spacious and clean district capital, is a cosmopolitan city of 400,000 people going about their daily lives. Surprisingly, there are no tourist facilities. The city doesn’t even have a proper restaurant.” “North Bali is a must-see, and Lovina is the perfect starting point for sightseeing the whole northern part of the island. But for some reason the locals and expats living in the south feel that it is too far away and tour buses seldom venture over the mountain passes. In reality the road to get up here is fantastic. Lovina is only a few hours drive and much of that time is spent escaping the congested traffic of the south.” Among the things to see and do are not only such well publicized sites as Lake Bedugul’s Ulun Danu temple and the Banjar hot springs, but many others just waiting to be discovered like Ambengan waterfalls and the dive center of Pemuteran.
There are fewer beggars, touts, and hassles in the relatively quiet black sand beaches of Lovina. Long known as a backpacker’s cheap dive mecca, the coast is lined with inexpensive accommodations and restaurants. In spite of the booming real estate market, the Balinese living in the rolling hills above Lovina fiercely keep a hold of their traditions.
Chasing Down Dolphins & Skin Diseases
The next morning at 5:30 am the phone rang in my room. Pak Simson, the hotel driver, was ready to take me the four kilometers down to the coast. In the clear fresh air hundreds of tourists wearing bright orange lifejackets were wading out to dozens of mosquito legged motorized outriggers bobbing offshore. A long string of the mosquito-legged jukung had already set out for open sea and in 15 minutes we were all clustered over an area of about one square kilometer. Whenever the boatmen would see a dolphin’s fin break the water, swarms of the jukung would speed towards the spot. Soon a thicket of boats hovered around waiting for the dolphins to reappear. Some of the boatmen would strike off from the group on their own, followed by other boats chasing down any dolphin pod that was sighted. At one point I counted 37 outriggers with such briny names as Sea Walker and Ocean Spray.
Mist and smoke from fires clung to the tops of trees and day was breaking over the mountains when we headed back to shore. I asked Gede, my boatman, if the lumba-lumba weren’t frightened by all the people and the growls of outboard motors. “They like ramai! They like many people!” he told me. Later that afternoon, Pak Susmun took us to Banjar, the area’s best known hot springs. Beside the near empty sulfur pools I met Casper, a Dutchman who with his Balinese partner Pak Joni owns the popular Kubu Lalang Bungalows in Tukad Mungga. Casper told me he visits the hot springs at least twice a week. The smelly but powerfully curative mineral-laced water, he claimed, is amazingly effective in eradicating skin problems, especially fungus. I look down at my feet and said, “Really?” This would make these steaming springs an unbeatable deal for the Rp5000 entrance fee. On the way out, double quilted bedspreads were selling for the bargain price of Rp100,000. I asked myself why didn’t more people know about this place.
Foodie Retreat in the Mountains
Before the Damai, the Lovina area was a food desert. It was the resort’s romantic prize-winning restaurant that put Lovina on Bali’s culinary map. Getting the word out was difficult at first, but Bali boasts an unusually vibrant community of food fashionistas who are incessantly sniffing around for the latest dining sensation and eventually they found their way here.
The Damai doesn’t have the classy interior design and modern architecture of Seminyak’s Ku De Ta or Kuta’s The Wave but instead offers the classical ambience of traditional Bali. Currently the small resort is riding the wave of Eat, Pray, Love – eat at the Damai, find spiritual growth in Ubud and search for love in Kuta. I never trusted a skinny cook, so it gave me great pleasure to shake the pudgy hand of heavy-set and cheerful Ketut Tangkas, the resident chef. Pak Ketut earned his chops working below decks for several years in the hot kitchens of the Princess Cruise Lines.
The resort’s cuisine was originally developed by Per Thøstesen, previously chef de cuisine at the Le Nord restaurant in Lyon owned by the legendary nouvelle cuisine chef Paul Bocuse. Together with Escoffier, Bocuse is rated one of the greatest French chefs. In the beginning it was impossible to get the essential ingredients. The range of imported delicacies was very limited and even fresh fish proved a challenge. In those early days, most of the early morning catch had already been frozen and driven to the fish markets of the south. Now the kitchen buys its seafood either at the Singaraja market, from local suppliers who import seafood from other islands, or directly from the fishermen who alert Pak Ketut on his cell phone.
The kitchen grows 80% of its own vegetables for its dinner menu, salads and nutritious herbal drinks in the raised garden beds planted on the downward slope in front of the resort or they buy organic produce from “a brilliant Japanese guy” in Bedugul. The Damai has established its own farm that breeds pigs, pigeons, ducks, rabbits, snails and lobsters. Many menu items are made on the premises – the krupuk, pastries, bread, humus, jams, sambal, even the potato chips. Damai’s food, based on fresh produce, is a fusion between Japanese, Western and Balinese. These are not light meals, but they are inventive, tasty, beautifully presented, and the portions are generous. The three course set menu, which changes daily and is complemented by a superb selection of wines, offers the best value. I marveled at the pile of wonderfully crisp fresh water baby lobsters set before me, usually the staple of a patio barbecue. To add to the number of Damai’s big splashy dishes like these are a whole bunch of attractive and memorable a la carte dishes.
The world-class menu has been continuously refined, though individual dishes have not changed much since they were initially conceived. The most resilient is Per’s original potato wasabi soup, on the menu since the very beginning. More recently, the tuna tataki and the bouillabaisse are the big winners. And of course the herbal concoctions. Preparation for my departure drink, the Damai Jamu, drowned out all conversation in the swimming pool bar. Into the mixer went avocado, cucumber, pineapple, spinach, parsley, celery, lime, ginger, apple and jungle honey! As it turned out, all that high octane was needed to get me over the mountains.
I decided to take a different route back via Bedugul. Unlike the gently used Antosari-Seririt road which links two market towns, the heavily trafficked Singaraja-Denpasar highway is between two district capitals. Climbing up the hairpins over the volcanic spine of north-central Bali, the road was congested from the start with Sunday drivers and groaning trucks. As we neared the lake the traffic thickened even more, crawling past the crowded Ulun Danu temple’s parking lot, up the hill by the busy Bedugul vegetable market, finally breaking free as we began our descent down to the teeming southern plains, the peace of the Damai far behind me.
Practicalities:
Top End: The Damai, Kayuputih, Lovina, tel. 0362-41008, email resort@damai.com, website www.damai.com. Eight traditional Deluxe villas ($295), five new pool villas ($495-$1095). Rates include tax and service. Free wi-fi, butler and shuttle service to and from Lovina. Ten course cooking classes on request (Rp1,100,000++). Customized or set tours and picnics. Spa with full range of therapeutic and beauty treatments.
Budget: Mega Ayu Homestay, Jl. Raya (east of Lovina Beach Hotel), Kaliasem, tel. 0362-41172, mobile 081337190647, email: mikepices47@hotmail.com. Seven rooms with mandi Rp60,000 per night with breakfast. Set in from the busy Singaraja-Seririt road. Close to the beach. Meet the irrepressible and informative Michael Young whose wife owns the Biyu Nasak Gallery in front, Lovina’s best traditional art shop.
