Story of Bali, Indonesia

So it was - and his grandchildren still speak of this miracle
Not always, though, was a King's path easy.
Such a King once lived in Klungkung and, as the years passed, he began -to suspect that his High Priest was neglecting him. (Anyone who did not clock-in at the Palace at least twice a" day was a drop-out in the King's opinion).

To punish this priest (or Pedanda as he was called) the King had a servant catch one of his geese, put it at the bottom of a deep well, replace the cover and send the priest to him.
When the Pedanda arrived, a perfectly spine-chilling racket burst forth from the well, as the goose frantically fought for its freedom.

Begging the Priest be seated, the King then craftily asked: "Can you tell me what is causing this hideous uproar.
The Pedanda clasped his ring hands, gravely put his head on one side, listening, before replying:
your Majesty, only one thing could make such a noise. There must surely be a giant serpent, a naga banda, in your well."
Well pleased, because he was about to make the High Priest look very small potatoes indeed, the King threw back his head and laughed:
"No, you are wrong Take off the cover and see"
So the Pedanda stepped forward, swept the cover off the well and out rose a giant serpent - the dreaded naga banda - and swiftly twined itself around the King, imprisoning him in its coils.
Help " cried the King, frantically fighting for air. "Save me and I will do whatever you wish."

The Pedanda plucked a bow and arrow out of the air. (You doubt it He could pull a serpent out of a well - why not a weapon from the air) and killed the dragon with a magic arrow, thus saving the King.
"From this day on," declared the Pedanda, "as punishment for trying to trick me, neither you nor your heirs will be able to get into Paradise, unless a Pedanda first kills a dragon."
"So be it," said the King, humbly bowing his head.
But the King was a clever man, determined not to lose face, so he gathered his ministers together and announced grandly:

"A great honour has this day been granted me. The High Priest has decreed that before my cremation a naga banda must be killed, so that its spirit may guide my soul to Heaven"
Not unnaturally, when the other Kings heard of the wonderful favour bestowed, they were livid.
"What The King of Klungkung to have his own special escort to Heaven Unheard of"
If shooting a dragon could procure this, then each and every King resolved to have his own private Pedanda shoot his own private dragon before his cremation. No special treatment for the King of Klungkung
Thus was a penance converted to a privaledge, as it became customary for Kings - and Kings only - to be "guided" to Heaven by the "Royal" dragon.

Story of Bali, Indonesia

BEWARE LOW FLYING ANGELS

The American tourist cocked a critical eye at the lamplight t putting a match to a kerosene lantern:
"Why the heck doesn't the hotel have electricity when it g right past the door"
Listen carefully and I'll tell you. The spirits wouldn't like

Well, would you Put yourself in their place. Picture floating fancy-free for centuries around the grounds and buildings - a firefly lighting your path here - a few stars to help you on your way there and a sprinkling of moonbeams thrown in for good measure.

See what I mean All soft and cosy like. Then, suddenly Kerput Finish The harsh beam of neon glares down on your eve move - and every self-respecting spirit packs it in and shoo through to a rival hotel.
So what are you left with A load of old neon - that's what you're left with. And try making offerings to a neon light and see it can make rain or attract new tourists
What, you don't believe in spirits
You can go to Rome and say there are no fountains - you go to Bali and say there are no gods or demons. Few will believe you.

No stately home of England worth a hoot is without a couple of resident ghosts, and every home in Bali has its quota of demons angels, spirits - call them what you will.

Hotel Tjampuhan, perched high on the bank of a very sacred river, is no exception. Offerings are made on all the prescribe', days for both good and evil spirits and little palm leaf trays' packed with flowers, incense and small portions of food, are continually popping up without warning in every corner of the garden - on special occasions, even in the guest bungalows. And while many hotels seek to woo custom by western-style gimmicks, this little hotel steadfastly turns its back on such innovations and offers visitors a slice of old Bali -warts and all

As a result, a tiny squirrel flashes from branch to branch in the frangipanni an arm's length from where I write. I pause to watch his antics and two minute gold-and-brown honeyeaters dart into a neighboring tree and hover - wings frantically beating - over a bunch of ripe berries. Now a slim, sleek black and white bird zooms into the frangipanni and starts wagging its tail like a metronome. Another diversion as a kingfisher - a flash of blue feathers, scarlet beak - skims along the river bank, below the sacred banyan tree.

Naturally, such rustic harmony cannot be lightly achieved. A hotel which has no electricity also has no automatic laundry. In place of