THE HOUSES BUILT high on green rolling hills which stretch down to stunning cliffs and sea offer a prospect of suburban living Bali-style - until the cow wanders in and munches on greenery by the door.
From afar, these homes look fine, perched on empty land near the Ulawatu cliffs on Bali's southern Bukit Peninsula. Up close, they are clearly somebody's dream gone wrong. Some have no window frames left; electrical fittings and cables have gone. The foliage is pressing against the walls.
On the roads which wind through this spacious estate, similar signs of confusion abound. Bits of road are falling away, lamp-posts have been scavenged, and half-constructed concrete shells are scattered in the undergrowth.
Another surreal landscape is found at Pulau Serangan, or Turtle Island. Here, the view is less benign. Harsh winds whip across stretches of landfill flinging up biting dust and plastic waste. Occasional patches of scrub provide little shade. A guard post is unmanned.
Local residents, huddled in wraps against the wind, tell of how it used to be when a natural lagoon provided rich fishing grounds. Now the villagers tend lonely stalls, offering soft drinks and trinkets to less than half a dozen visitors a day.
What happened here? Both developments appear stuck in a time warp. The emptiness is eerie. Markers on the ground suggest ambitious plans for playgrounds intended to bring new income from tourists and potential residents.