If you haven’t yet, first read my post on a solitary birthday in Malaysia.
Bali is one of those places that means different things to different people. For some, it’s a tropical party hub. For others, it’s a digital nomad paradise with overpriced smoothie bowls. Then there’s the version sold through Eat, Pray, Love – a place of healing, self-discovery, and spirituality.
For me, it was Eat, Pray, Work.
After nine days of solitude in Malaysia, I landed in Bali with a different mindset. I wasn’t looking for answers, I just wanted to do things that made me feel good. Eat great food, explore the spiritual side of Bali, and work from scenic cafés overlooking rice fields and the ocean.
I had no fixed plan, just a return ticket home and the flexibility of remote work. But Bali made it easy to fall into a rhythm – mornings sweating in yoga studios, afternoons working from cafés, evenings wandering through night markets or catching live music in hidden spots.
What followed was a completely different experience from Malaysia.
Finding My Own Rhythm in Bali
I started with four days in Ubud, the heart of Bali’s spiritual scene. From there, I spent a few days on the beaches of Gili Trawangan, then Canggu, then into the quieter landscapes of Sidemen. After that, I circled back to Ubud for another week before wrapping up the trip.
Unlike Malaysia, where I had spent most of my time alone, Bali felt alive. I was constantly surrounded by people, whether in hostels, cafés, or yoga classes. Conversations flowed easily, and I started saying yes to things without overthinking. An African drumming circle, a Volcano hike, a Balinese cooking class, scuba diving, a Find Your Roar workshop (yes, it involved roaring).
And then there was the work.
Bali is full of digital nomads, people working on their laptops in cafés or co-working spaces, typing away with views of endless green fields or crashing waves. I checked out a few co-working spaces in Ubud, but most days, I preferred working from cafés. Something about being surrounded by nature made everything easier, I could finish a full day’s work in just 3–4 hours, leaving the rest of the day to explore.
It didn’t feel like I was “balancing” work and travel. It just felt normal. Effortless.
Short Friendships, Fleeting Moments
In Malaysia, I had mostly kept to myself. Bali was different. I spoke as much as I needed to, and it never felt forced. Conversations happened naturally – on hikes, over hostel dinners, on ferry rides between islands. Some people I spent days with, others just an hour.
There was the Korean couple on the ferry to Gili Trawangan, eager to hear my sob story. The Indian-American guy I met on the descent from Mount Batur, who spoke about family pressure and the struggle of not knowing where to call home. An Australian couple, a few British travelers, a group I won hostel trivia night with and later went for dinner.
And then, of course, there were the moments that weren’t so great – like the hostel in Gili T where I barely spoke to anyone because it was just people partying non-stop. Or the awkwardness of sharing a cramped three-person dorm with a couple who, let’s just say, didn’t care that someone else was in the room.
But mostly, the connections I made in Bali reminded me that people are always passing through your life, even if just for a little while.
A Different Kind of Spirituality
Bali is known for its spirituality scene. Some of it is real, some of it is repackaged and sold back to Westerners at a premium. I had seen all the jokes and memes about Ubud before I got there, and I understood why. But I embraced it—on my own terms.
One of the most memorable experiences was the Cacao Ceremony at Pyramids of Chi. The facilitators sang spiritual songs, the energy in the room was calming, and for a while, everyone just sat with themselves. We meditated, we shared stories, and afterward, we went for dinner. The contrast of going from deep meditation to laughing over a meal with new people made it one of my favorite nights.
And then there was Kirtan at Yoga Barn—a packed room of about 40 people singing Hindi bhajans. The funny part? Only three of us were Indian, including an elderly couple sitting in the front row. The rest of the room was mostly Westerners, led by a white singer. But it didn’t feel performative. The setting—dim lights, candles, a glass wall overlooking the greenery as the sun set—made it feel almost surreal. I went in with curiosity, and I left feeling unexpectedly peaceful.
New Year’s Eve in Sidemen
New Year’s Eve in Bali is a big deal. The island is known for its over-the-top parties, and people fly in from all over the world just to celebrate here.
I wanted none of it.
I had debated going to a sober New Year’s party in Ubud, but the idea of being surrounded by loud music and people while feeling alone in a crowd didn’t appeal to me. Instead, I went to Sidemen – a sleepy, green valley surrounded by rice terraces—and spent the day doing exactly what I wanted: walking through small villages, stopping at local cafés, and finding a quiet waterfall.
That night, from the balcony of my hotel, I watched fireworks light up the sky over the rice fields. Unlike the chaos of city celebrations, this felt calm. The beauty and serenity of the landscape was exactly what I needed.
It was the perfect way to close the year.
Final Thoughts
If Malaysia was about solitude, Bali was about movement. I wasn’t searching for answers, just experiences that felt good in the moment. And somehow, that was enough.
A place can be whatever you want it to be. Bali has beach clubs and parties, sure. But it also has nature, culture, spirituality, and space to reset.
If I had stayed home, I would have stayed stuck, overthinking the past, waiting for something to shift. Instead, travel pushed me forward – to adapt, to be present, to focus on what was in front of me.
Even in an emotionally tough time, stepping away gave me clarity. I returned to India feeling refreshed, lighter, and more ready to take on life than I had in months.
Maybe I came to Bali looking for peace.
Maybe I just needed a change of pace.
Either way, Bali gave me exactly what I needed. And good food, really good food.
