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Denpasar is definitively Balinese — in its temples, buildings, markets and friendly people. Bali is an exotic repository of Hindu and Buddhist cultural treasures, courtesy of past refugee dynasties from Java. Denpasar, I had imagined would be the one place bereft of the ceremonial and artistic splendor you associate with this luxuriant little island. I could not have been more wrong.

Like most visitors to Bali, I had never been encouraged to stay in the capital — not by fellow travelers, guide books or my personal guide. It was really just a hunch that had me defy all the pundits and give myself four days in Denpasar.

It was perhaps fortunate for me that my stay corresponded with the time of the full moon (purnama), a phenomenon that inspires a feast of celebrations, with copious temple offerings and boundless goodwill. But ceremony aside, Denpasar clearly has one great asset to recommend it to the visitor.

As much as any city could be, it is definitively Balinese — in its temples, its buildings, its markets and in its friendly people. I got most of my enjoyment simply cruising the markets and the streets, popping in and out of shops and stopping off to eat.

I was given an inkling of how celebrities must feel. There were exuberant greetings from almost everyone I passed, invitations to sit and chat, offerings of food — yes, I was given a banana and a soft drink in a shoe shop!

t’s mandatory to do the walking tour. This takes in some splendid and evocative temples, the fabulously vibrant produce market (Pasar Badung), the handicraft market (Pasar Kumbasari), Kampung Arab with its quaint old fabric shops and the famous Museum Negeri Propinsi Bali. These are all within the vicinity of the main shopping street, Jalan Gajah Mada.

Pasar Badung requires a good few hours to absorb. The colors are fantastic, to say nothing of the fragrances and the aromas of the spices. Flowers abound, sold as handsome bunches or as mini sacred offerings (canang), exquisitely arranged.

The city’s most venerable temple is Pura Jagatnatha. Built in the 70s, it is dedicated to the godhead of the Hindu-Balinese pantheon, Sang Hyang Widhi Wasa.

A towering obelisk, or padmasana, serves as its centerpiece, with the godhead at its crown. The night of the full moon saw the temple compound thronging with the endless comings and goings of earnest devotees. The entire city, it seemed, had turned out in their finest.

A wayang kulit, or shadow puppet show, was also being staged. A simple oil lamp provided the back-lighting. A single puppeteer provided the voices, manipulated all the cast, played percussion with his foot and conducted the orchestra (gamelan). What a guy!

Next to Pura Jagatnatha is the museum. It was set up by the Dutch just a few years after they massacred 4,000 Balinese in what is now Puputan Square — the large park directly opposite the museum. The present day collection is reasonably impressive. But the five display pavilions are themselves the main attraction. They represent Balinese temple and palace architecture in different regional styles, and are set in exquisitely kept grounds.

The full moon ceremonies were certainly not limited to Pura Jagatnatha. Secluded little temples — even humble Seni Market near the losmen where I stayed — were lavishly festooned with rows of padmasana — those monumental pyramids of tropical fruits and flowers that Balinese ladies carry so demurely on their heads. I came across several padmasana processions. They all managed to stop the city traffic.

I also chanced upon a Balinese funeral. These are always monumental events. Several hundred women, all clad in matching purple tunics, marched in single file before and after the sarcophagus, which itself was a fantastically elaborate work of art, and huge enough to accommodate several family members under cover on its top. It too stopped the city traffic.

Yes, Denpasar is above all else definitively Balinese. Shrines are everywhere, archaic-looking monuments, all carved by highly-skilled artists who bring to their work the passion of the humble devotee. Such artistry extends to secular architecture too.

Many of the city’s major banks and “office blocks” are distinctly “Baliesque”. They resemble ancient palaces, with their temple-style split gates, highly decorative columns (like those that adorn Jalan Gajah Mada’s verandahs) and elaborate facades. You almost expect to see the rajah and his entourage parade out through those gates, instead of men in sober business suits.

The city shops also hark back to the past — well, at least to the 50’s. There is little in their windows to tempt a casual visitor, unless you are in the market for a kain kamen (ceremonial wrap-around), a udeng (headcloth) or a kebaya (lady’s ceremonial tunic). But Jalan Gajah Mada contains several fine craft shops, and the handicrafts at Pasar Kumbasari draw plenty of eager patrons from the major tourist precincts.

And then there are the malls. Two of the most popular — Matahari and Robinson — are opposite each other on Jalan Teuku Umar, a couple of kilo meters south of central Denpasar. If you are not inclined to walk, you can jump into a taxi, a bemo (shared taxi) or a dokar. The latter are the brightly painted pony-carts that clip-clop their way anachronistically through town, defying both the traffic and the times. Matahari especially is a great place to up-date your wardrobe. A sucker for a bargain, I emerged from my shopping spree a totally new man.

Nightlife in Denpasar would seem not to exist. I hardly missed it. There was so much else to do. The shopping malls stay open till 10pm, and Pasar Badung is well and truly hopping still at dawn. There are also any number of warung — Balinese-style kiosks — that stay open very late. You can stop for a beer or coffee — great Balinese coffee — and a chat with whoever might be there. If language is a problem, content yourself with pleasantries and smiles.

I had no trouble filling in my days in Denpasar. I certainly never felt alone. Made to feel very much at home in my garden-shrouded losmen, I felt very much at home in the city as a whole.

Denpasar, I’m sure, would be a joy at any time. But a Balinese-style festival is a special bonus. So when you come to plan your visit, you might want to bear in mind the phases of the moon.

Written by Tom Cockrem
Published on The Star Online - thestar.com.my