The final leg of the journey began with an hour-long ferry boat ride from Sanur Port to the island of Penida (Nusa Penida). While the other parts of my trip focused mainly on cultural sites and ocean exploration, my two days here were spent on beaches and beautiful coastal scenery as much as possible.

There were two beaches that I just had to get to. Later it turned into three after the driver told me that it was on the way back. They were Kelingking Beach, Broken Beach, and Diamond Beach. I had originally wanted to visit Manta Bay (a site where tourists can see manta rays), but I decided that it would just be too much to squeeze into a short time (a habit I must fix for future trips).

After checking into my hotel, my driver carted me off to Kelingking Beach. The driver was older, but he was from Nusa Penida and knew how to navigate what would be the most difficult roads yet. Something that I hadn’t realized was how much the elevation changes here. That, along with the biggest and most frequent potholes yet, made driving even more anxiety-inducing than before. If any place will teach you about factoring in driving time, it’s Bali.

Kelingking Beach

Kelingking Beach is noted for its beautiful cliffside and shore, notably the T-Rex-shaped cliff. Speaking of animals, the other ones of note are the local monkeys. I read that you should be careful going down the long (extremely long) narrow staircase because of them. Much like at the Monkey Forest and other monkey sites, it’s important that you keep your items close (and preferably hidden from them). The monkeys have quickly learned to steal items from tourists and use extortion to trade with tourists (phones, wallets, glasses, hats, etc.). Luckily, even though I saw a handful of monkeys at the top with other tourists keeping them occupied with snacks, I didn’t have any “monkeys on my back” to speak of.

What I did encounter was the accurately described long, arduous walk down steep steps on a narrow staircase that seemed to go on forever. Seeing the exhausted tourists that were returning from the beach below made me question whether I really wanted to put myself through the epic journey to the beachfront. At one point, a young woman who was panting in distress while sitting on the steps asked if I had any water. I did, so I gave her my bottle. She took only a small drink, so I said she could have more. She replied, “You’re going to need it,” and handed it back.

As I continued down, stopping to get more photos, the more I decided that I just couldn’t agonize myself in pursuit of ocean waves, even though that’s what I craved the most. Watching other people below splashing through the majestic, rough waves was difficult. But I had to be firm about what I was willing to do. I tried to compensate for it by taking as many photos as I could.

I especially liked it when the waves would crash ashore.

Not being able to experience the enormous waves crashing over me felt like a sacrifice, but when returning to the top, it was also nice not feeling like I was close to death from exhaustion. By then, the monkeys had disappeared, as had a majority of the tourists.

Broken Beach

Broken Beach was originally part of the plan, then I decided not to go, then I was persuaded to see it since it was the last site of the day (or so I thought). This place isn’t a traditional beach but contains a beach area inside of an enclosed ring-shaped cliff. It also has a cliff overlooking the ocean.

Crystal Bay

I was pleased to hear that Crystal Bay was actually on the way back to the hotel. This made sense since the route we took circled up the west coast. When we arrived, the sun had already set, and the area looked smaller than I imagined. I stayed long enough to take a quick dip before heading back. I didn’t enjoy being behind big trucks on the winding, pothole-filled road at night, however.

Diamond Beach

The next morning marked the final site, Diamond Beach. After finishing breakfast and checking out, we left just after 8:00 am, and I was a bit nervous about the timing. I was told that it would take an hour to get there, and it did. Luckily, I had enough time to get some photos.

The person at the admission booth scammed me for more money after I asked for one ticket. I even showed one finger, indicating one ticket. I was still charged for two and was handed two magnets to put on the refrigerator. I thought it was odd. Luckily, my driver asked me how much I paid. While I was showing him, one of the ticket employees came out of the booth with money to give back to me, saying, “Sorry.” I read online that you should be careful about sleight-of-hand tactics, from admission to sites to money exchange counters. I was annoyed, but I didn’t have much time to say anything, so I quickly continued on my way toward the cliffs.

It looked like there was a very long path down to the beach area, just like at Kelingking Beach, but I knew I wouldn’t have time to explore down there.

Upon returning after maybe 20 minutes or so, the driver wondered if I had also seen another area further to the west. I told him that I didn’t have time for that and that it was time to head back to the ferry port.

The ferry ride back was fine, as was the ride to Seminyak, my final night in Bali. I had originally planned to see a Kecak fire dance show performed at Tanah Lot (a temple on a cliff overlooking the ocean) which makes for a lovely backdrop for the dance at sunset. However, the Grab app kept saying that it would take an hour to get there, even by motorbike. By this point I could no longer stand the idea of potentially spending two more hours driving.

Instead, I decided to just try to enjoy some evening time at Seminyak Beach, which ended up being lovely, even if I wasn’t there that long. It was quite shallow, so you have to walk out quite a ways before the water even begins to get a bit deeper. I had to kneel down to enjoy the waves splashing around me. But I enjoyed it anyway, as it felt like the ocean was cleansing my soul. I felt similarly when I visited Wao’Ao Beach in Taiwan, but this time there was some color in the sky instead of just clouds.

In the morning, the owner (or manager) drove me to the airport. I decided it was better to pay for this service so that I didn’t have to worry about trying to find or schedule a ride.

Going Home

I was stressed from barely having any time to make my connecting flight in Singapore, but my return flight was far more stressful due to the long layover (nine hours). It then turned into ten hours due to a delay. That was in addition to my seven-hour and 40-minute flight back to Tokyo.

The stress started as I was killing time walking around with my luggage. A man was passing by me holding a can of ginger ale when he suddenly dropped it. The can hit the floor and splashed the left side of my face and some of my shirt. Apparently it didn’t hit anyone else (as far as I could see). I stood there for a moment, unsure of how to handle my frustration. Then he picked up the can and continued on. I’m not sure if he knew that it squirted me. I thought about saying something to him, but I also figured he seemed a bit embarrassed already, so maybe it was best to just move along.

When I searched for the airport hotel, I asked the hotel clerk about their rates. He said the minimum time to purchase was five hours. Looking at the time, I realized it would put me right at the time of boarding, so I opted not to. Instead, I found a lounge to hang out in (that I had to pay to use) for three hours so I could charge my phone, use my laptop, and try to rest my eyes. This was before I was notified about the one-hour delay. My new boarding gate was now further away.

It felt like I waited for an eon before finally heading to my gate. I sat down on the floor while waiting to board. A man right next to me then decided to lie down and relax. That also meant taking off his shoes and dangling his foot not more than two feet from my face. Lucky for me, they didn’t smell.

Not long after that, I heard a commotion happening to my right. There were two women who were arguing. All I could make out was that one of them was quite upset at the other for touching her. I couldn’t hear the details, but at one point the woman accusing the other of touching her suddenly muttered an insult, something about now having an STD because of being touched. When it was time to board, I wasn’t sure if I should have been thankful for the entertainment. Ultimately, I congratulated myself for finally making it through this exhausting layover. But I still had another seven hours and 40 minutes to fly before arriving home.

When I finally got to Narita Airport, I was surprised and felt defeated that it was going to take 45 minutes longer than I thought to get home. Did I mention that it was an evening flight that left at about 11:30 pm? When I arrived in Tokyo, it was about 7:30 am, which meant that I hadn’t slept for about 27 hours between Bali and Tokyo.

Reflections

Thinking back on my trip, the entire time I was there I wondered how much tourism has truly impacted Bali’s culture. Thailand is criticized for this, too. Although I enjoyed being there, I understand this criticism. Ever since the book “Eat, Pray, Love” came out (and especially after the movie with Julia Roberts), it has become one of the hot places for beach vacations and leisure time. I wonder how much money the locals actually get from the tourism.

You can see that the locals are mostly working at places catered to tourists. It has a very artificial feel to it, especially when you see that all over the island. You often see the locals living in what look like shacks, or perhaps slightly bigger, better places if they own a homestay, a shop, or a restaurant. Outside of Sanur, the roads are not well maintained. Bali is also known to have terrible traffic issues, and now I understand why.

I feel it’s important to contribute not just money but also time to experience Balinese culture (such as cultural shows, cooking classes, etc.). I wonder, though, how much of these shows are truly authentic. Have they been adjusted to suit foreigners? Bali is known for cheap fares. However, people should know how locals have paid the price for this. If you are asking yourself, “Am I helping to provide jobs to boost Bali’s economy? Or am I contributing to the destruction of its culture?” The answer may be both.

If you wish to be a globe-trotter (or you are one), then sustainable tourism is more important than ever. While I’m glad that I got to experience Bali, I can’t help but wonder if I should have chosen some other place (like Java or Komodo Island), somewhere not known as a major tour destination. I would like to return someday to see these areas, and I hope that they can maintain their culture while offering opportunities to see more of Indonesia and its culture.