I’d been putting off making a trip to Bali for some time. It seemed inevitable that I would end up there, especially considering Laura’s frequent nagging on the subject, but I had remained hesitant for the longest time. Known for its crowded beaches, uber-resorts and locals touting crappy souvenirs and hassling you at every turn, my justifiable concern was that Bali would turn out to be the worst of what over-saturated tourism could be.
The sad thing is that I wasn’t too far off with that assumption. That being said, if you’re willing to do your homework and stray from the conventional, there are some fantastic opportunities to enjoy a Bali that is void of dirty beaches and congested streets. Well, sort of.
Regardless of any trip you make to Bali, I think it would be near impossible to experience much resembling authentic. The island has built much of its prosperity over the past few decades on tourism, so to find oneself outside of the far-reaching tentacles of the tourist trade is unlikely. I suppose the best way to approach it, at least for me, was to embrace it while at the same time making some careful choices about where and how I wanted to spend my money and time.
Which is what led us to Nusa Lembongan, a small island off the eastern coast of Bali. Home to fishermen and seaweed farmers (who knew?), the island provided us with a glimpse of what felt more like Bali than Bali itself. And while it certainly wouldn’t be Bali without the ubiquitous hotels and bars, these were limited to the few that scattered the beach line, and which seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding village. Granted a few swank resorts did lay claim to parts of the landscape to the east, but really, the daily rhythms of the people who lived on the island seemed to have been little altered by the small influx of tourists that had ventured beyond the surfing beaches of Kuta and Seminyak.
Even after two days, it was easy to understand how time could simply erode as one day seemed to meld into the next. The sun rose and set at the exact same time, the rains came (or at least threatened to) at the same hour each day, and the blazing heat of the sun made it near impossible to do much of anything between the hours of 9:00 in the morning to 5:00 in the evening (apart from lying around the pool and reading that is).
Aside from the lethargy that a stay on Nusa Lembongan seems to induce, we did manage to venture out to the coral reefs that surround parts of the island, courtesy of Captain Nyoman and his white-washed fishing vessel (a relic, I imagine, dating back several generations). With snorkeling gear in hand, we dove into the open seas to marvel at the spectacular coral that rested just below the water’s surface. The brilliant colours and variety of coral and fish put the Great Barrier Reef to shame, although I must say, in Australia you can snorkel safely knowing that you aren’t going to be covered in plastic bags, cups, and other debris when you climb out of the water (a considerable plus in my books).
This, of course, is one of the major drawbacks to Bali, although to be fair, the reason why the amount of garbage seems at times to outweigh the amount of fish is a result of the over-saturation of tourists on the island, combined with the preferred waste disposal system employed by much of Indonesia that involves burning mounds of plastic or shipping it off to sea.
So if you’re looking for that postcard-perfect tropical paradise, complete with pristine beaches and crystal-clear water, Bali may not be the place for you.
My advice: stick with the postcard.
Next: Laura scrapes her leg.
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