No Longer Feeling Like A Stranger in Bali

Josh had been worried about his left knee earlier in Flores, but by the time we landed in Bali, the days of rest while waiting for the next flight in Labuan Bajo had done him good. He felt confident again, ready to ride.

Arriving in Bali was interesting. In the first few hours, it felt both familiar and foreign. For Josh and I, Bali is so close to home, yet one we’d always held at a distance. Neither of us had strong feelings about it in any direction, but in our minds, it always belonged to another world, which made being there feel oddly surreal.

We gave ourselves a day to prepare, stripping gear down to bare essentials. The drone, tent, sleeping bags, and extra clothes—all left behind. Traveling light meant traveling free, and this time, comfort came from simplicity.

The ride began with a push through Bali’s busy heart, weaving past the traffic of Denpasar and Ubud before settling into quieter roads. From Tampaksiring, the climb up to Kintamani was steady and forgiving compared to the steeper routes from Ubud or Sayan.

Even under the midday sun, the climb felt manageable. Ice cream breaks and quick water stops kept us moving, and the warmth of Balinese locals—especially in less touristy corners—added a brightness that carried us upward. Their smiles, small conversations, and gestures of kindness turned the ride into something lighter than the gradient suggested.

By the time we reached Kintamani, we instantly forgot that we had just climbed 1.500 meters; the pain evaporated. Both of us had been there before, yet the sight of Mount Batur never fails to cast a spell. On a clear day, it’s breathtaking, and this was no exception. Choosing Kintamani as our first stop proved right—the hardest climb was already behind us, and the reward was beyond worth it.

With Singaraja as the next pitstop before heading east, Josh and I treated ourselves to local delicacies and a walk around the morning market, observing the mix of Balinese, Chinese Indonesians, and Javanese cultures in town. The slow way we traveled gave us a renewed appreciation for Bali. Being there no longer felt strange or foreign.

A little detour before heading to the last stop in Tulamben, we went to Tianyar savanna and spent a few hours there. It was a strange yet great experience to be in one of the most beautiful spots in Bali without an overwhelming amount of crowds. The sky was clear that day, the sunset was amazing, and the people were kind; once again, I think that North Bali is underrated.

REFLECTION

I have seen a tiny portion of Flores. Every day, my limited experience on the island told me that the further you go, the more beautiful it gets. However, my experience also told me that when nature talks to you, you listen. You can’t fight nature. No matter how much you prepared, no matter how ready you think you are to face the unexpected, when it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be.

It’s funny to think that after all the warnings about Flores’ brutal climbs, it wasn’t physical challenges that broke me, but circumstance. Bikepacking has a way of humbling you, reminding you that desire alone can’t bend nature to your will. Out there, the road, the weather, and the unknown are always larger than your plans. All you can do is listen, yield, and accept that the adventure is never fully yours to control. At first, it was frustrating to realize that no amount of preparation or strength could change the weather, the costs, or the road ahead. But slowly, I learned to embrace what was given instead. For me, that detour became Bali: an unexpected gift, and the trip I was meant to ride.

Flores remains a dream for now.