We begin to recognize that the Amandari truly does live up to its claim to be one of the best hotels in the world. Certainly I have never stayed in a better one. Gray, service is immaculate. Apart from the tumbling of the Ayung river in the ravine below, and a resident gecko in the ceiling who emits an occasional loud cheep, tranquility is total. So is the beauty.
Every detail is in perfect good taste.
In the evening the klink-klonk of a gamelan trio, mirrored in the water, drifts across it to the diners. It is pure Babar-land. A naked boy is lovingly bathing a pretty red cow with beguiling oriental eyes, and himself, in the river. We return from the jungle soaked in perspiration. June or October, the Grays tell us, would be a more sensible time to come.