The rice paddies in Bali are a lush green and the work that goes into them make me ashamed of the moaning that I have done in the past about "hard work" in the garden. These fields are a seven days a week job, from morning until night. It doesn't matter how old or what gender you are, if you own the fields, you work, hard.
The photo above was taken in the highlands but we had rice paddies surrounding the villa where we stayed near Ubud. Every morning, at 7.30am I would watch the old man walking down to his chook shed to feed his chooks. And only then would his rooster stop crowing! Yes, there was a rooster opposite the villa; and one further down the paddies, and another after that!
Then the old man would start work in the fields, along with other family members. Sometimes they would send a coconut along to the villa for us to try and other times they would wave and smile and say "Where you from?"
We had the best holiday, ever. This is just the beginning of an ongoing relationship with Bali - and the first of many posts and photos of this beautiful island and its people.
I didn't want to leave.