WHERE

Balian River

Balian River is one of those places where only a handful of lucky travellers discover, usually by accident, and most end up staying a lot longer than they planned. And when these dreamy waywards do finally depart from Balian, they do so reluctantly and with promises of imminent returns.

There are not many places on Bali where you can actually see the wave from your bungalow. And even fewer surf spots where you can grab your board and stroll to the beach never having to even put on your flip flops let alone strap your boards to the roof of your rental and drive Bali’s absurd roadways… Balian River in Tabanan Regency west Bali is one.

The two hour drive west from Kuta Beach is probably the worst drive you will encounter in Indonesia unless you plan on driving in Jakarta, the nation’s capital: Bumper to bumper black smoke dump truck rollercoaster ride with near misses around every bend slowed to crawling speed in order to view the flipped upside down cargo delivery or unattended road workers using tree branches as warning flags beside flaming buckets of bubbling ashphalt while giant tour buses wheez and careen ferrying field tripping Muslim students to and from the mother island. It is in fact this very hair-raising barrier that has prevented Balian River from becoming another overpopulated tourist destination.

And as the booming Balinese economy multiplies the vehicle count exponentially our little paradise next to the highway will become even more difficult to get to. But the truly cool traveller cares not about choked roads or long loads and so Balian will continue to grow despite the roadblocks.

These are the good old days and they are going fast.

When you enter this one lane village you will enter a traditional world reminiscent of times gone by. Ladies carrying bundles of firewood glide passed and freshly combed school kids with ganja print back packs travel in gangs on there way to school. The lazy country policeman checks his phone for messages and a chicken runs under your car. The guys in the rickety shelter are absorbed in a game of dominoes as your first glimpse of the ocean appears ahead. Finally you reach a corner where all you see are cows grazing on a clifftop pasture high above the sparkling Indian Ocean.

First you see the lines… then you see the break. A solid set pushes through in slow motion as you bounce along the blacktop. Your heart starts pumping as you roll down the hill toward the beach. Finally at the end of the road you pull into the Pondok Pitaya surfer hotel… then you realise