Bali News
The beginners guide to Bali
If you really must stay at Kuta Beach, home of beer, massages, Bintang singlets, tawdry bars and that singular breed of Aussie tourist known as the Bali bogan, head for the oasis of peace and calm that is the Pullman Bali Legian Nirwana.
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Relax at Maia Luxury Resort & Spa
That was the thought as the golf buggy slowly made its way up a twisting-twisting narrow concrete path, overall incline of our climb about 30°, greenery either side as lush and varied as Rousseau (or Eden). We reached 221, the furthest of the 30 detached villas, walked 20 yards along our private drive and down 20 stone steps to our deck, and looked down to the sea far below, and across to a promontory about 500 yards beyond. As I write this there is no other building in sight.
Bill Bensley designed this 12-acre resort as a feast for the senses, inside and out (I see, I taste, I smell, I hear, I feel, I sense). Villa 221 has a welcome deck, which is partly thatch-roofed, with a daybed holding a plastic-wrapped satellite copy of today’s The Times. A full working kitchen area, with induction, is at one end, with a LavAzza Blue machine. There is dining for two, and your 20ft private infinity pool is here, and there is an upper deck outside the bedroom, whichis about 15 x 15 ft, rises to a height of 12 feet. It is mostly white plaster, with inset wood panels. From the bed I look straight out to sea. As well as the inside bathroom there is an outdoor shower, and, also outside (shown) is a sunken bathtub, under its own thatched roof. The tub is surrounded by ornamental water, paddling-pool depth with two single daybed loungers standing ready, made up with white towelling.
We have a joint spa appointment, and we trek down, a good 12-minute workout. The spa is like an exotic garden, Bali style, its periphery 7m-high natural rocks out of which orchids grow, whenever they, not any of the resort’s 18 gardeners, want. You are in your own private area, 1,200 sq ft or the size of a tennis court (there are three such spa ‘cabins’). You have indoor changing rooms and outdoor – roof over – massage areas, dry or wet version, for two. She offered lemongrass tea, and minute skewers of fruit bits. Next time I will come for a La Prairie facial. Back home, 221’s outdoor bath had been drawn.
The hotel’s energetic GM, Frédéric Vidal, was waiting to show us the wine cellar, overseen by Sebastien Dental (ex Paris Four Seasons George V). He has 4,500 bottles here, and chose a Clos Vougeot 2002 Jacques Prieur for tasting. We were shown a bottle of Amor de Deutz Rosé 1999, with the rare 24-ct placomus (metal top) by Paris jeweller Pascal Morabito, whose versatility is shown by his Bali villa interiors, and by the cover of Michelin’s centenary edition. We looked at La Tache 1996 and a Pétrus 1985 and heard about a guest who had asked, ahead, to keep 12 bottles aside, one for each night of his stay. We heard of the problem at the last Russian holiday, when 27% of guests at that full-house time were repeats and the hotel knew there would be eight private jets to be parked at the airport (the solution? They dropped off their valuable loads and went on to Mauritius to park). Back to the wine business. Vidal explained Wine Sign, which Maia exclusively introduced on January, 2010. Guests go through a tasting of six premium wines, obscured in black sleeves. They give their opinion, and a computer then assesses what wines, anywhere, are perfect for them (this is an idea of Bordeaux wine promoter Philippe Raoux, whose vineyards include the Margaux-appellation Ch d’Arsac).
Time for dinner, which tonight is down 34 stone steps from a secondary reception area to the open-sided, high-roofed restaurant by the side of a big ornamental pool with integral firebowls. I see others dining on the beach, or on a lower terrace. You eat where you want here. There does not seem to be any sign of a menu but the Melburnian chef, George Bilionis, comes out to assess our likes and dislikes: Vidal has deliberately also brought in a Syrian chef, and someone who specialises in Creole and Chinese cooking and another who is traditional French. Our table is set with white linens, Villeroy & Boch bright red glass display plates and drinking glasses, and white Mikasa side plates. We drink a Nuits St-Georges 1997 de Perdrix, are offered mini baguettes, or walnut or plain breads, and salted and unsalted butter. The meal starts with lobster ravioli, goes on to foie gras, and snapper with vegetables, and finishes with individual chocolate délices topped by the kind of fascinators that Society Women wear to society weddings.
Back home, the bed is turned down, the blinds are closed, and Pilih has thoughtfully put out a kettle, filled of course, and teabags (Hédiard) and a carton of long-life milk. In the morning, the sun streams in through opened curtains at about 0615. By 0645 I run-the-run, down the hill and back up again twice, stopping off in the small-select Technogym for a quick turn on the Kinesis machine and the pilates ball (silver, of course, to match the equipment). I pass through the wonderland that is a 300-variety arboretum of bamboo palm, cinnamon, cashew, coconut palm, lemongrass, parrot heliconia and trumpet flowers – I know all this as the trees are carefully labelled, in English, French, Creole and Latin. There is just time for a swim before Pilih arrives to cook breakfast, which we had ordered verbally the previous evening. The table even has fresh leaves in a ceramic holder, and we have perfect mango, papaya and pineapple, and muesli and yogurt, and he makes the toast, and pours refills of outstanding juice, and makes yet another cup of 10/10 LavAzza coffee. There are ten different Hédiard preserves, and both types of Beurre Echiré. The main music is the sea, below, but birds in this Garden of Eden chirp occasionally. And even Adam and Eve did not have a Murano awaiting. News from kiwicollection.com
Bill Bensley designed this 12-acre resort as a feast for the senses, inside and out (I see, I taste, I smell, I hear, I feel, I sense). Villa 221 has a welcome deck, which is partly thatch-roofed, with a daybed holding a plastic-wrapped satellite copy of today’s The Times. A full working kitchen area, with induction, is at one end, with a LavAzza Blue machine. There is dining for two, and your 20ft private infinity pool is here, and there is an upper deck outside the bedroom, whichis about 15 x 15 ft, rises to a height of 12 feet. It is mostly white plaster, with inset wood panels. From the bed I look straight out to sea. As well as the inside bathroom there is an outdoor shower, and, also outside (shown) is a sunken bathtub, under its own thatched roof. The tub is surrounded by ornamental water, paddling-pool depth with two single daybed loungers standing ready, made up with white towelling.
We have a joint spa appointment, and we trek down, a good 12-minute workout. The spa is like an exotic garden, Bali style, its periphery 7m-high natural rocks out of which orchids grow, whenever they, not any of the resort’s 18 gardeners, want. You are in your own private area, 1,200 sq ft or the size of a tennis court (there are three such spa ‘cabins’). You have indoor changing rooms and outdoor – roof over – massage areas, dry or wet version, for two. She offered lemongrass tea, and minute skewers of fruit bits. Next time I will come for a La Prairie facial. Back home, 221’s outdoor bath had been drawn.
The hotel’s energetic GM, Frédéric Vidal, was waiting to show us the wine cellar, overseen by Sebastien Dental (ex Paris Four Seasons George V). He has 4,500 bottles here, and chose a Clos Vougeot 2002 Jacques Prieur for tasting. We were shown a bottle of Amor de Deutz Rosé 1999, with the rare 24-ct placomus (metal top) by Paris jeweller Pascal Morabito, whose versatility is shown by his Bali villa interiors, and by the cover of Michelin’s centenary edition. We looked at La Tache 1996 and a Pétrus 1985 and heard about a guest who had asked, ahead, to keep 12 bottles aside, one for each night of his stay. We heard of the problem at the last Russian holiday, when 27% of guests at that full-house time were repeats and the hotel knew there would be eight private jets to be parked at the airport (the solution? They dropped off their valuable loads and went on to Mauritius to park). Back to the wine business. Vidal explained Wine Sign, which Maia exclusively introduced on January, 2010. Guests go through a tasting of six premium wines, obscured in black sleeves. They give their opinion, and a computer then assesses what wines, anywhere, are perfect for them (this is an idea of Bordeaux wine promoter Philippe Raoux, whose vineyards include the Margaux-appellation Ch d’Arsac).
Time for dinner, which tonight is down 34 stone steps from a secondary reception area to the open-sided, high-roofed restaurant by the side of a big ornamental pool with integral firebowls. I see others dining on the beach, or on a lower terrace. You eat where you want here. There does not seem to be any sign of a menu but the Melburnian chef, George Bilionis, comes out to assess our likes and dislikes: Vidal has deliberately also brought in a Syrian chef, and someone who specialises in Creole and Chinese cooking and another who is traditional French. Our table is set with white linens, Villeroy & Boch bright red glass display plates and drinking glasses, and white Mikasa side plates. We drink a Nuits St-Georges 1997 de Perdrix, are offered mini baguettes, or walnut or plain breads, and salted and unsalted butter. The meal starts with lobster ravioli, goes on to foie gras, and snapper with vegetables, and finishes with individual chocolate délices topped by the kind of fascinators that Society Women wear to society weddings.
Back home, the bed is turned down, the blinds are closed, and Pilih has thoughtfully put out a kettle, filled of course, and teabags (Hédiard) and a carton of long-life milk. In the morning, the sun streams in through opened curtains at about 0615. By 0645 I run-the-run, down the hill and back up again twice, stopping off in the small-select Technogym for a quick turn on the Kinesis machine and the pilates ball (silver, of course, to match the equipment). I pass through the wonderland that is a 300-variety arboretum of bamboo palm, cinnamon, cashew, coconut palm, lemongrass, parrot heliconia and trumpet flowers – I know all this as the trees are carefully labelled, in English, French, Creole and Latin. There is just time for a swim before Pilih arrives to cook breakfast, which we had ordered verbally the previous evening. The table even has fresh leaves in a ceramic holder, and we have perfect mango, papaya and pineapple, and muesli and yogurt, and he makes the toast, and pours refills of outstanding juice, and makes yet another cup of 10/10 LavAzza coffee. There are ten different Hédiard preserves, and both types of Beurre Echiré. The main music is the sea, below, but birds in this Garden of Eden chirp occasionally. And even Adam and Eve did not have a Murano awaiting. News from kiwicollection.com
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