Gunung Kawi

Listen first. Below you, water runs fast over stone, a steady rush that never quite stops. The air is cooler here than up on the road. It smells of wet moss, damp earth, and a little incense from somewhere out of sight. Under your feet, the stone steps are worn smooth and slightly uneven. Around you, rice terraces fall away in green bands toward a river gorge. Somewhere at the bottom of all this, carved straight into the cliff, ten ancient shrines are waiting.

This is Gunung Kawi, in the village area of Tampaksiring, a short drive north and east of Ubud. The name is usually understood to mean something like the mountain of the poets, or the carved mountain. The second reading fits what you are about to see. Nothing here was built from blocks and stacked up. Everything was cut away. The shrines were made by removing rock until only the shape of a temple was left behind, standing in its own deep niche.

The walk down is part of the experience. There are a few hundred steps, and they take you past small stalls, then past terraced paddies where you may see farmers working in the water. Take your time. The steps can be slippery after rain, and the climb back up is the harder half. On the way, notice how the gorge slowly closes around you. The sounds of the road fade. By the bottom, the river is the loudest thing you can hear.

Near the lower part of the path, you will pass through a gateway cut through solid rock. It feels like a doorway into another space — and that is exactly the point. In Balinese temples, gateways mark a change from the ordinary world to a sacred one. Before entering, visitors wear a sarong and a sash around the waist. This is a sign of respect, not a costume. If you did not bring one, they are normally available at the entrance.

Now, look across the river. On the far bank, you can see four tall shapes carved into the cliff. Turn to the near side and there are five more, standing in a row. Each one sits inside its own arched niche, several metres high. They look like the front of a temple, with a stepped, tapering roof. But walk up close and you will find they are not buildings at all. There is no inside. They are reliefs — solid faces of rock.

These shrines date to around the eleventh century. Historians link them to the Warmadewa dynasty, an early royal line of Bali. The most common view is that the main group of five honours King Anak Wungsu, a son of King Udayana, along with members of his family. The group of four on the other bank is often linked to royal consorts or concubines. You will sometimes hear the shrines called royal tombs. That name is a little misleading.

Here is the first surprise. No human remains have been found inside these monuments. They are better understood as memorials — candi, the Indonesian word for a shrine that honours a revered person, often a king who was believed to join the gods after death. So you are not standing in a graveyard. You are standing before stone markers of memory, carved to keep a royal name alive in a sacred valley.

Look carefully at the stone around the top of some niches. Faint traces of old script have been found here, in an early Javanese-style writing called Kawi. The marks are weathered and easy to miss, so do not worry if you cannot read them. Their presence is a reminder that Bali was part of a wider world. In this period, royal and cultural ties linked the island closely to Java, its larger neighbour to the west.

Not every story about this valley comes from the archives. Locals tell a popular legend about a giant named Kebo Iwa, a figure of great strength in Balinese folklore. According to the tale, he carved all of these shrines with his fingernails, in a single night. It is folklore, not history. But stand in front of the rock and you understand why the story exists. The work looks almost impossible for human hands and simple tools.

Do not leave without exploring the monastery area. Near the main group, small rooms and cells are cut into the cliff, with doorways and narrow passages. These are thought to have been used by monks or hermits for meditation and living. Step inside one, if access is open. The walls are close, the light is soft, and the sound of the river becomes a low hum. It is easy to imagine a quiet life of prayer here.

Second surprise: there is a tenth shrine that many visitors never find. It stands apart from the others, a walk further down the valley through the paddies. Some people call it the tenth tomb. Scholars have suggested it may honour a royal minister or official. The path is longer and quieter, and fewer people make the effort. If you have the energy, it gives you a sense of how this whole valley was once a sacred landscape.

Gunung Kawi is still a living place of worship today. You may see offerings of flowers, rice and leaves in small woven trays, placed at the base of the shrines. Please walk around them, not over them. Nearby, water channels and spouts carry river water used in rituals of purification. Watch how local visitors move — slowly, with quiet hands. Their way of being here tells you more than any sign.

Before you start the climb back, find a dry spot and stand still for a moment. Look up at the carved faces, darkened by moss and centuries of rain. Listen to the river that has run past them for nearly a thousand years. As you walk up the steps, glance back once at the rice terraces and the gorge. The valley will look much as it does now long after you have gone — green, wet, and patient.