Sanur

My original plan for Bali had been simple: three days in Lovina Beach, three days in Ubud, and my final night in Sanur, a beach town near the airport.

Friday morning I found myself reluctant to leave Ubud. I liked my room there. I could easily spend another day wandering the Monkey Forest, catch another performance by Griya Faria that evening, and simply take an early bus to the airport the next morning.

Tempting.

But travel has a way of pulling you forward, even when you are comfortable where you are.

So I stuck with the original plan. I wanted to see another side of Bali before leaving the island, especially the beaches on the southeast coast. I had heard Sanur was quieter than Kuta, less crowded and more relaxed.

By noon I arrived in Sanur. My driver dropped me off along the boardwalk near the beach, and I began searching for a room.

The first hotel I checked, the Ananda Beach Hotel, turned out to be perfect. The rooms were inexpensive, breakfast was included, and the grounds were beautiful in that distinctly Balinese way — stone carvings, tropical plants, small shrines tucked quietly into the landscape. Even ordinary spaces in Bali seemed designed with beauty in mind.

After settling into my room, I headed back out to explore.

Sanur Beach was carefully maintained, with sandy stretches connected by a long boardwalk lined with small vendors, beach chairs, and occasional gazebos extending toward the water.

The atmosphere felt easygoing and open. People strolled slowly along the beach while others relaxed in the shade with cold drinks only a few steps away.

Not long after arriving, I realized Sanur had a personality completely different from Lovina or Ubud.

This was Bali’s watersports coast.

Everywhere I looked people were out on the water. Windsurfers skimmed across the waves, parasailers drifted high above the shoreline, jet skis cut through the surf, and catamarans moved steadily out toward deeper water. Even surfers could be seen farther offshore waiting for waves.

There was an energy here that felt different from the quieter spiritual atmosphere of Ubud or the sleepy fishing village feel of Lovina.

Sanur felt active.
International.
Transitional.

Tourism was more visible here. The city itself felt larger and more modern than the other places I had visited in Bali. American fast food chains appeared among shops and hotels, reminders that globalization eventually reaches almost everywhere.

Yet even here, Bali still held tightly to its visual identity.

As I wandered farther from the beach, I continued finding the architecture and artistry that seemed woven into everyday life across the island. Ornate statues guarded entrances.

Temple gates rose unexpectedly between businesses and homes. Stone carvings and shrines appeared everywhere, blending naturally into the landscape rather than standing apart from it.

That balance fascinated me.

Even in the more modern parts of Bali, tradition still seemed alive and visible.

I spent the afternoon simply walking. That had become one of my favorite parts of traveling alone. Without a schedule or destination, I noticed more. Small details became memorable — a quiet courtyard, the sound of the ocean behind the buildings, a carved statue partially hidden by tropical plants, the changing rhythm of neighborhoods as I wandered farther from the beach.

By evening I found myself back along the shore watching the sun lower over the water.

I realized my time in Bali was coming to an end.

Over the past several days I had moved through fishing villages, mountain towns, beaches, markets, temples, and crowded streets. I had snorkeled, watched dolphins at sunrise, wandered aimlessly through villages, and met people whose kindness stayed with me long after the conversations ended.

Each part of Bali had revealed something different.

Lovina had shown me stillness.
Ubud had shown me art and spirit.
Sanur showed me movement.

And somehow all of it still felt unmistakably Bali.

That night I sat near the ocean for a long time, listening to the waves and watching the activity slowly fade from the beach. In the morning I would head to the airport and leave the island behind.

But I already knew Bali was one of those places that would stay with me long after the trip itself had ended.

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