Bali is not the exotic paradise people make it out to be. Even when it tries at its hardest, it's hard to live up to the hype when more than half the island is made up of foreigners, be it European backpackers, rich Australian partygoers, or Chinese families. Living the good life can be had here for very cheap: cheap beer, cheap luxury hotel rooms, and cheap experiences.

The worst example of this was at Kuta, where all of the tourist extortion and crudeness is evident. Hotel resorts sneakily pushing their way closer and closer to the waterline, as if they want the water to be literally lapping on their gates. Pubs and clubs serving 'authentic' Austrian or Australian fare, and 'local' boutique shops that claim uniqueness when a similar can be found further down the road.




The island was very reminiscent of Koh Samui in Thailand. And if I had to decide between which was worse, I would almost say Bali. But its redemption is found in the mountain town of Ubud.

In Ubud, you can feel a simmering hint of the Hindu spirituality that underpins the Balinese existence. Even when the global encroaches on the local space and the local cultures, the temples and the shrines and the spiry gates that look as if they've been sliced in half by a precision laser somehow tower beyond all the kitsch.


In Ubud, you can watch mystical plays, fire shows where possessed shamans walk across flaming husks, and rice terraces that cascade into deep ravines. The air is purer, the shops are chicer, and the crowd is additionally more agreeable. It's somewhere I could see myself going back to ... if my budget mirrors that of my parents.