Outside the inner courtyard of the temple, characters from the Ramayana wandered the street performing for whomever wanted to watch, the most evil of the characters would lunge into groups of young boys sending them scurrying, laughing to a safer distance

As the walls came tumbling down and the villagers gathered to enjoyed their feast, we gave back our borrowed clothes and went home to Oka Wati. We were very  impressed with the spectacle and the organization.  What they could do next day to top this we couldn't imagine

Oh dear next morning the weather which had not been great took a turn for the worse and the day of the re consecration was a wash out

Over the next couple of days we took long walks North of Ubud, returning in the afternoon to relax in Oka Wati's pool or if I had allowed myself a glass of Aunties homemade wine with lunch, to have a nap

Dotted along the paddies in the middle of nowhere are small art galleries.  As we seemed to be the only people walking the paths at that time of year,  we wondered how they make a living, they might not see anyone else all day

On the third day of walking every thing took a turn for the worse.  Tony took a flying leap from the glorious rice terrace of Sayan and went head over heels, landing heavily on his back left rib cage.  Fortunately we had a self appointed guide, or maybe unfortunately, because just before we met him we had turned back, put off by the muddy slippery terrain.  His assurance that the couple of little old ladies we had just passed had successfully crossed the river, convinced us to give it a try

However, he did manage to get Tony out of the gully he had landed in and up to a house on the edge of a village not too far away.  From there our lovely ‘guide’, who had endeared himself to me by never allowing me to miss the opportunity of spotting a large snake, ran to get his motor cycle and along with a friend came back to rescue us.  We rode back to Ubud in style and in a torrential downpour.  The camera Tony was carrying came out unscathed and a Dr. ensured us Tony was suffering only a very bad bruising     and some torn muscles but no broken bones.   Maybe a cracked rib or two but definitely not broken

Last view of the rice terraces and rafters of Sayan.  Moments later the Bali part of our trip was all but over for Tony

Milano's Spa.  I never needed massages and rose petal baths and a cup of hibiscus tea more than I did that week

I had chosen well, our upper level room had a very large veranda, it was quiet and private so Tony could stay in his pyjamas all day if he couldn't face getting dressed.   It was a great place to recuperate  Madame Oka Wati came every day at breakfast time to check on the patient and personally cooked us a special dinner on our last night and it was lovely to be able to say  'g'day Gede' 

So there were no more jaunts, dance performances, festivals, cremations, or trips to the Northern mountains, but from our perch in the tops of the palm trees we could see the birds feathered and otherwise coming and going around the pool and watch Mount Agung when he honoured us with his great hulking presence through the clouds.  The sky was a perfect blue with fluffy white clouds,  it should all have been perfect.  When not on our veranda we were watching $1.50 rip off DVD's of current movies

We made our flight to Melbourne without incident but Tony arrived in a wheelchair