M D Morgan monogramM D Morgan

Journal

Munduk and the highlands: photographing Bali inside a cloud

Munduk sits at around eight hundred metres in the mountains of north Bali, and it is cold, wet and frequently inside a cloud. After three days on the coast it functions as a complete change of register — different light, different temperature, different pace, and a landscape shaped by Dutch plantation agriculture rather than by rice.

A lone figure with a white umbrella passes a temple shrine standing in floodwater.
From Praying in the Rain

Coffee, cloves and colonial infrastructure

The Dutch planted this area out in the nineteenth century — coffee first, then cloves, cacao and vanilla. The village of Munduk itself still has colonial-era houses along its single road, and the economy remains agricultural in a way the south largely is not.

Cloves are the visual signature. Harvest runs roughly from July into September, and during it the drying happens on every available flat surface — tarpaulins by the road, forecourts, front yards — turning whole villages into fields of dark red drying to brown. It is one of the most photographable working processes in Bali and it is almost entirely undocumented.

A woman tends a stone shrine in a bamboo grove.
From Looking for Bali

The lakes

Three crater lakes sit along the ridge: Tamblingan, Buyan and Bratan.

Tamblingan is the smallest and quietest. No motorboats, a handful of dugout canoes, forest coming down to the waterline, and mist most mornings. It is the one to photograph.

Buyan is next to it, larger, with farmland along the northern shore.

Bratan has Pura Ulun Danu Beratan on it — the temple on the water that appears on the fifty-thousand-rupiah note and on approximately every piece of Bali marketing ever produced. It is genuinely beautiful and it is also a managed tourist site with a car park, a garden, a playground and, on a good day, coaches. Photograph it if you want; understand that you are making an image that exists in a hundred thousand near-identical versions. The more interesting hour is early, before the gates get busy, when people are actually praying there rather than queueing to be photographed in front of it.

A man in a conical hat holds a child at the edge of a rice field.
From Praying in the Rain

Weather as the subject

The highlands make their own weather. Cloud builds through the morning and sits in the valleys; rain arrives most afternoons for much of the year, and in the wet season it can stay for days. Temperatures drop into the high teens at night, which after the coast feels genuinely cold.

This is not an obstacle, it is the material. Mist separates planes in a way you cannot manufacture; a village street with cloud moving through it does most of the compositional work for you. The light under highland cloud is soft, even and holds detail in both directions, which is close to ideal for photographing people.

What you do not get is a clean view. If you have come for a sweeping panorama of terraced valleys under blue sky, you will spend four days waiting for twenty minutes of it.

Villages and terraces

The road from Munduk down towards the coast passes through a string of plantation villages — Gesing, Umajero, Gobleg — that see very little traffic and almost no photographers. Gobleg has one of the oldest temple complexes in the area.

The rice terracing here is different to the famous terraces further south: smaller, steeper, less manicured, and worked rather than presented. Nobody charges you to stand in it.

Waterfalls

Munduk has several within walking distance — Melanting, Munduk falls, Golden Valley — reached by paths through plantation. They are pleasant and they are also, photographically, the same problem as every waterfall: one viewpoint, long exposure, done. The walk in through clove and coffee is the more interesting part of the trip.

A farmer levels a flooded rice paddy with a long rake.
From Looking for Bali

Practicalities

Bring warm clothes. This surprises people every time. A fleece and a rain shell are not optional, and neither is something dry to change into.

Condensation is worse here than anywhere. Coming from a warm coast into cold, saturated highland air will fog everything. Let gear equalise inside the bag before opening it, and carry more cloths than you think.

The roads are steep, narrow and slippery, and landslips are common in the wet season. Journeys take longer than the distance suggests.

It gets dark early in the valleys — the ridges cut the sun well before actual sunset.

Stay in the village, not on the ridge. The resorts along the Bedugul road are convenient for the lakes and have no life around them. Munduk village has people in it.

What it is for

The highlands are the part of the island where the weather is a collaborator rather than a problem, and where the agricultural economy is visible in a way it is not on the coast. If the rest of a week has been heat, crowds and hard light, a day up here produces a completely different set of pictures — quieter, softer, more about atmosphere than incident. A body of work needs both.

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