A Love Letter to Bali

At 19 years old, I boarded a flight to Bali with nothing more than a backpack and a dream. I took a risk on myself, a real risk–not like booking a guided tour or a study abroad program– but the kind of life changing, brain chemistry altering risk from which you never return. This trip changed both my mind and my heart, and gave me a taste of the feeling I fear I’ll be chasing for the rest of my life. I miss it so much already I wrote it a love letter. You can find it below.

Uluwatu & first impressions

After 23 hours of travel, I finally stepped off the plane at Denpasar Airport—the second I walked outside, it was clear: we were not in the West anymore. Relieved just to be on my feet again, I headed for the taxi stand to make the 13-mile trip to my first destination, Uluwatu. That short drive turned into a 3.5-hour crawl through Bali traffic, stretching my travel day into a 26.5-hour marathon.

Gym bros, wellness centers, vegan cafes. That’s all I have to say about Uluwatu. It was exactly what I needed to recover from my long journey, and to prepare for what was in store.

Canggu & chaos

I came to Canggu for what was initially supposed to be three nights. I extended three more times, which should tell you everything you need to know about how much fun I was having.

That’s really all there is to do in Canggu: have fun. I stayed at the Farm Hostel, commonly referred to on TikTok as Love Island in real life. I can confirm this is true. It feels like a reality show run by 28-year-old British guys who are probably way too old to be there. This is where frat social chairs should go in retirement, although the odds of finding an American in a hostel in Southeast Asia are slim.

The Farm is great. They have breakfast included every day, where the whole hostel congregates to debrief the night before over banana pancakes and fruit plates. Afterward, everyone migrates to the pool for the rest of the afternoon, regrouping before the evening activities begin. They host pregames and events every night at their upstairs bar, which also happens to sell the best drink I’ve ever had, a “passion star skinny bitch”—a crossover between a pornstar martini and a vodka soda, with chia seeds for an extra bit of fun. This was also the place where I was first introduced to joss shots, a Southeast Asian staple that also happens to be my best friend and biggest enemy on a night out.

While I don’t remember all of the specifics (blame it on the joss shots), some of my best nights out of all time happened in Canggu. Don’t ask me how we ended up in the VIP section at Finn’s ordering bottle service and trays of sushi, but just know it happened. The best part of each night was walking down towards the beach to this great little strip of bars, the heavy hitters being Old Man’s, Sandbar, and Motel Mexicola. The latter is my personal favorite, as is any establishment with sufficient table-dancing space.

You’re probably thinking this all sounds shallow and irrelevant to the very points I’m trying to make with this blog. However, my time in Canggu was actually quite meaningful to my personal journey. Before this trip, I was always very anxious and skeptical when it came to going out and having fun. I always felt I had to be the responsible one: taking care of my friends, being the example, and never completely letting go. I had goals to achieve, places to be, and a reputation to uphold… But here, I was free. I lost track of the days, I was present in the moment, and I didn’t feel like I had to babysit anyone. It was like a breath of fresh air, and it helped me spend more time with a version of myself that I was finally getting to know.

While this took up the bulk of my time in Canggu, I also finally got my hands on the Bali bag of my dreams at Gedhe Leather, which happened to be just steps away from the hostel. The other star of the show was Copenhagen Cafe, a Scandinavian-style brunch spot that I visited every single day. Overall, I considered Canggu a smashing success.

Sunglasses on, bag packed, and head held high, after six nights of mayhem I fled the scene, ready to trade beach bars for a few weeks of peace in the jungle.

Ubud & enlightenment (ish)

Ubud was the leg of my trip I was the most excited for. Disillusioned by my Julia Roberts dreams, I imagined it would be the place where I would find my authentic Indonesian experience, where I would heal from all my heartache and pain just like she did in Eat, Pray, Love. When I got to Ubud, it became apparent to me that everyone else must have had the same idea. It was like going to the mall a week before Christmas, but instead here everyone is shopping for enlightenment. With hundreds of yoga studios, retreat centers, spas, and all-inclusive resorts, Ubud is a staged spiritual paradise.

I was in Ubud for just under a month, as the bulk of my time on this trip was spent in my 200-hour Yoga Teacher Training with Yoga Union. I stayed in a private homestay at Ajung’s guest house, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood on a one-lane road. When you looked out, all you could see were rice fields for miles and miles, dotted with a few cafes and restaurants whose only customers were yogis. It finally felt like the authentic experience I was craving, and the perfect place to host an immersive teacher training.

During the program, our days were packed full from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. We woke up with the sun and headed to our first class of the day, pranayama at 7:15. This 45-minute class taught us breathwork techniques, the bandhas and mudras, and served as an introduction to meditation. As a generally anxious person who never stops thinking, this class was the most difficult for me. In fact, sitting straight up for 45 minutes was hard enough on its own, which must be why Patanjali emphasized the ability to sit steadily and comfortably as the foundation for all asanas.

Our second class was a vinyasa flow. These were definitely a push, full of advanced postures and many chaturangas. Coming from a background in hot yoga, I felt like I had better stamina practicing in the cool morning air, which canceled out the difficulty of enduring a lengthy 90-minute session. While it was challenging at times, I can’t emphasize how incredible our teachers Himanshu, Cece, and Natalya were. It was such a privilege to learn from those who have dedicated their whole lives to studying this practice, and I am forever grateful for each piece of wisdom they shared with us.

High on endorphins from our flow and starving from an already long morning, we then headed to breakfast. This was always the best meal of the day, particularly when they served French toast. After breakfast, we headed to our alignment class where we learned the correct technique for each asana as well as different verbal cues and hands-on adjustments we could provide for our students. This class was followed by a brief lunch break, and then our second lecture of the day in either anatomy or philosophy. Afterward, we headed directly into our evening workshop, where each day focused on a different style of yoga, ranging from ashtanga, inversion workshops, acro yoga, yoga nidra, and more.

Finally, dinner time. All of our meals followed the Ayurvedic diet, which was difficult because some days all I wanted was a steak (and some days I gave in, highly recommend Batubara and Chupacabra). At the beginning of the program, I was good about eating the provided dinners at the shala, but by the end, I was craving to go into town and feel like a part of society again. I was overall very impressed by the restaurant scene in Ubud, and Bali in general, as they have an incredible variety and quality that I’ve found are sometimes lacking in my travels. My list of recs is as follows: Zest, Alchemy, and Milk & Madu for healthy choices. I Love Bali for a build-your-own option of modern Balinese cuisine. Some of my favorite meals came from Brie Restaurant & Cheesery, Sala, and Casa Luna (a Ubud classic—get the pumpkin ravioli). Foci Bakery had one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had. Seniman Coffee for a post-dinner dessert and pot of tea.

During my training, we also had Sundays off to study, recover, and explore Ubud. I was too busy with the first two to get around to the latter, as most of my Sundays were spent in bed, and at Daily Laundry and the Pepito market. Luckily, I arrived in Ubud a few days prior to my program, so I was able to do most of my sightseeing then.

On my first day, I woke up at 1 a.m. to brave the Mt. Batur sunrise hike, a shocking development for those who know me, but after all, my goal for this trip was to step outside of my comfort zone. I’m glad I went, as the views from the top were stunning. However, be forewarned, this is not a beginner hike as advertised. You gain about 1,650 ft of elevation in an hour and a half, as the tour guide rushes you up the mountain to catch the sunrise. I consider myself a pretty in-shape person, but this really took it out of me. The view from the top was great, the banana sandwiches and chocolate bars too. Definitely bring a jacket and lots of layers, as it is freezing at the summit.

My hike included a coffee tasting after, which is one of the main attractions in Ubud (very convenient to do them together; I booked through Get Your Guide). The tasting was delicious; my favorites were the avocado and ginger coffee. I also got to try Kopi luwak, traditional Balinese coffee made from partially digested coffee cherries that have been eaten and defecated by the Asian palm civet. It was good, but costs several hundred dollars per kilogram for authentic, wild-sourced beans. While that’s a bit out of my backpacker’s budget, it’s cool to tell people from home that I tried coffee made from animal shit!

One thing I was really excited to do in Ubud was go to the water temple; however, the stories I heard about it changed my mind. I met a few girls in my hostel who went, and they explained a disheartening sight of massive queues filled with Western tourists, most of whom had paid a local to film their entire experience. What once was a sacred temple in Balinese culture had since become an Instagram phenomenon for white people to show how “cultured” or “exotic” they had become on holiday. Considering their current economic state, I understand why the Balinese people take any opportunity they can to find an income, but I didn’t want to contribute to the exploitation of their cultural practices.

This was one of my major grievances with Ubud and Bali in general. Nothing is sacred anymore—not to fault the Balinese people, but the Western tourists and colonizers who have taken advantage of their resources, land, labor, and culture. As a Western tourist myself, it’s a moral predicament I have yet to sort out an answer to. Does ethical tourism exist? Does ethical tourism exist in an oversaturated travel destination such as Bali? Should we stop encouraging travelers to visit places that struggle with overtourism, or are there practices we can incorporate into making our travel plans more conscious and responsible? I don’t have the answers to these questions; however, I urge you to weigh them when making your travel plans.

Just like the water temple had become a major tourist trap, so had the tradition of seeing a Balinese healer. Following the same playbook as everyone else who also watched that one movie, this was one thing I definitely wanted to experience. Unfortunately, Ketut passed away in 2016, and although Liyer Spirit House still offers readings and healing services, I wanted to be sure I had an authentic experience away from the potential tourist traps, gimmicks, and seemingly inescapable Eat, Pray, Lovers.

Through my teacher training, I was recommended to Nyoman, an energetic masseuse/chiropractor/healer. I was a bit skeptical after hearing stories from my fellow yogis who claimed he fixed their hip issues, scoliosis, and back pain through a series of intense cracks followed by a deep tissue massage. Towards the end of my trip, still missing that deeply spiritual Ubud experience I craved, I gave in. As I walked through the woods towards this man’s house, I realized this was one of the slightly stupid things I probably shouldn’t be doing, and one of the stories I definitely shouldn’t tell my mom. Hey mom! Just on my way to this random Balinese chiropractor’s house to let him crack my neck! Add that to the list of dumb ways to die. But like most great travel stories, the best rewards come on the other side of fear.

Spoiler alert: I survived, and he was great. He told me one of my legs was longer than the other, but he allegedly fixed it, although I would never know the difference. His wife gave me a great massage, and the neck cracks felt incredible after a long few weeks of yoga. Towards the end of my session, he asked if I was carrying any trauma. He told me that whatever it was, I needed to stop holding onto the past. He said I would come to Indonesia and make new memories, ones that would make me forget about those from the past that haunted me. Shortly after, I left Bali, and it was just as Nyoman said. More on this in my Lombok post.

Parting reflections & words of advice

In my experience Bali definitely lives up to its reputation on both ends of the coin. It’s a beautiful place with incredible people, though at times oversaturated and problematic. It’s a beginner destination in Southeast Asia, and a great way for first-timers like myself to ease into the world of hostels and backpacking.

My first piece of advice is to be nice to Mama Bali and she will be nice to you. It’s our job as tourists to give respect to those who welcome us into their homes—so tip your Grab drivers, dress respectfully, and always follow local customs. Good intentions, positivity, and an open mind go a long way when traveling.

My second piece of advice is to talk to people in your hostels. Sharing a room with 16 strangers from around the world can be intimidating, but you’re all in the same position. Everyone here is so open to connection; it genuinely restored my faith in our generation. The people you meet while traveling will give you the best restaurant recommendations in town, take you out for some of the craziest nights of your life, and turn into lifelong friendships.

My final piece of advice? Don’t stop at Bali. It is a great place to add to your trip, but it doesn’t even skim the surface of what Indonesia has to offer. Go to Java, Sumba, Lombok, Flores… I don’t care where—there are over 17,000 islands in Indonesia to choose from. My biggest regret from this trip was not having enough time to see more of it. Be back sooner than you think,