I didn’t plan to fall for the north side of Bali. Honestly, I went up there because the south felt like it was talking too loudly. You know that feeling when a place is beautiful but it’s also… insisting on being seen? I wanted the opposite. Something that doesn’t perform.
You know that thing where you tell yourself, “Just a day trip,” like you’re being responsible? And then the day stretches. Not in a dramatic movie way. More like elastic—quietly—and you don’t notice until it’s already evening and you’re still not ready to go back. That was my first East
I never planned to think this much about health in Bali. It just happened slowly. One trip, then another, then conversations with friends who came back either glowing or quietly exhausted. Bali has that effect. It gives a lot, but it also asks something from your body if you stay
I didn’t plan to write about this at first.Honestly, when people ask me about Bali, this isn’t where my mind goes. I think about heat, long afternoons, food eaten too fast, conversations that stretch longer than expected. But then, if the conversation keeps going, this topic always finds its way
I didn’t come to Bali planning to understand anything deep. Honestly, I thought I would just walk around, eat well, maybe get a little sunburn, then go home with photos and stories that slowly fade. That’s usually how trips go for me. But Bali didn’t really care about my plans.
I’m not sure why, but I almost never remember a meal by the exact name first. I remember the air. Smoke that follows you for ten minutes. Warm garlic that seems to stick to your fingertips. That slightly sweet, slightly sharp moment when turmeric hits heat and the kitchen changes
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