Uluwatu: Sunsets, Surf, and the Price of Paradise
Uluwatu is definitely the expensive side of Bali: 50k (£2.15) for a small Bintang, and 130k (£5.60) for two ice creams and two bottles of water. Paradise, it turns out, comes with a price list, I’m not saying I expected something for nothing, but I did momentarily wonder whether the ice creams came with a background vocalist or a small spiritual awakening.
We checked into our hotel and were very pleased to grab a cold bottle of water, collapse onto the balcony, and fully embrace the fantastic view in front of us. It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning its slow descent into the sea. This was our first proper Balinese sunset; when we were here two years ago it was the tail end of the monsoon season, and the evenings were mostly cloudy. In fact, it was cloudy most of the time, with the dramatic volcano backdrops lost to mist and haze.
All Paths Lead to Dr Dings
Over breakfast on our first full day, we decided to head to the beach. We took the turning off the main road and followed a small road towards the beach, having to stop and pay 10,000 rupiah to someone as apparently the public beach is fact private and we needed to pay the entrance fee. We then walked down many steps and caught a glimpse of the sea.
Despite the sea being full of surfers, we were completely unsure how to actually get onto it. There were signs directing us towards a small cove, which we followed, negotiating more steep steps with decidedly dodgy banisters. This led us to Blue Point Beach, also known as Suluban Beach—a world‑famous surf spot tucked beneath limestone cliffs, known for its dramatic cave entrance and elite‑level break. The tide was high, and as we looked around it seemed clear there must be another entrance to the beach somewhere. After taking a few photos, we went off to explore the rest of the area.
Our experience was that, despite climbing up and down several stairways and wandering through numerous narrow alleyways, everything led back to Dr Dings surfboard repair shop and the steps where we started. Timeout was called and, in the finest tradition of travel problem‑solving, we went to a bar.
After an hour of nursing a cold beer and watching some lacklustre surfing (clearly the waves weren’t high enough and there were too many people in the water, spoken with the confidence of someone who has absolutely no idea what they’re talking about), we headed back down to Blue Point. The tide was still too high to get around the corner, but the beach had acquired an entirely new function: Instagram Studio.
The area was now packed with girls in skimpy bikinis striking what I assume were carefully rehearsed poses. For me it would be two quick snaps of a fat bloke looking awkward, then done. These people, however, were there for hours doing nothing but taking photos of one another, reviewing them, and repeating the process.
I struggle to understand how anyone can say they had a great holiday when all they did was choreograph photos. Eventually I’d had enough, walked straight through them and into the sea. I’ve yet to find any images of a fat bloke in a black shirt and straw hat while searching images on Google, but I did notice after a while they all stopped and waited for me to move. Result. A small victory, but I’ll take it, they weren’t happy 😊.
The Early Start, well almost
Over dinner we discussed visiting Uluwatu Temple. As it would involve walking 2.4 km along the busy road, we decided it might be a bit risky to do so after the fire show in the dark , so opted for an early start to beat the tour buses. We didn’t get out quite as early as planned but still arrived around 10 a.m. by which point two tour buses were already on site. Uluwatu temple was the last temple built by Nirartha. Dang Hyang Nirartha died after the temple was completed. Taking his last breath in the midst of a praying session in the temple, surrounded by other worshipers. It was at this moment that the others in attendance witnessed Nirartha’s body floating higher and higher until it vanished above the clouds. It was since then that Hindu devotees considered Uluwatu temple as the gate to heaven. I did write some stuff about this and the beach above here
We took seriously the warnings about the monkeys stealing anything not nailed down, giving them very little opportunity to do so. At one point Jay even removed her glasses and fumbled around like Velma Dinkley. The early start was worth it; we were able to enjoy most of the site with relatively few interruptions from both crowds and blessed Instagrammers.
Near the temple, and amid a group of Japanese tourists, the warnings about the monkeys were vividly demonstrated. Items were ripped from bags and shredded, hats and glasses snatched, destroyed and dropped, and one unfortunate person had their expensive phone grabbed and partially dismantled by a particularly determined monkey. At the time it caused a lot of hilarity, but after completing the full walk along the cliffs we doubled back and she was still standing there, waiting, presumably for what remained of her phone. As we headed for the exit, even more tour groups were arriving, many of whom had clearly ignored the warnings. It was tempting to linger and see what happened next, but we decided to leave that to our imaginations; there were some very obvious targets, and the strong likelihood of some extremely upset children.
A Change of Plan
The plan for the following day was to walk into Uluwatu again, have a look around and try to find a route to a beach. That plan unravelled fairly quickly when we discovered the warung we’d intended to visit for dinner was closed, so instead we headed into town in search of beer and food.
We stopped at a place with good music and excellent mood lighting—so good, in fact, that it was impossible to read the menu. I also spent the evening being addressed as Pa by the waitress. I choose to believe this was a term of respect and endearment from the young punk, rather than an unvarnished observation; at least, I very much hope so.
As we’d already made the journey into town again, it became clear there was little left to see. With Lombok coming up,where we’d be sleeping just metres from the beach, it didn’t seem worth the effort of hunting down more sand beyond the small stretch at Suluban.
The end result was a day of catching up on admin and a bit of work, interspersed with lazing by the pool, swimming, and napping. That, after all, was one of the objectives of this first stop: to acclimatise, unwind, and adjust to the time difference.
For what we paid, we’ve been very lucky with the hotel. During the low season there were mixed reviews while the owners carried out some work, but we had a quiet room close to the router, at the end of the corridor so we could leave the door open and get a pleasant breeze and had an excellent view across the Indian Ocean. To the right, the tip of Java was just visible, in front of us, the next landfall in that direction is Tanzania, over 8,000 km away so nothing but a big expanse of blue.
We did have to change rooms after the sink fell off the wall. I’m not entirely sure what Jay was trying to wash in it, might have been her feet, might have been she still hasn’t worked out how to use the bum gun, but for legal reasons we’ve denied any responsibility for the incident, the brackets had rusted through and it dropped off the wall with an almighty bang, scaring two old people to death. As the plumber wasn’t available (I could have sorted the brackets myself if asked nicely), we were moved to another room. We expected something similar but instead were upgraded to a suite with a bath, although, not enough hot water. Still, it’s very nice. We’ve only stayed in two places so far and have been upgraded twice. Not a bad start.
Uluwatu, then, turned out to be less about ticking off sights and more about easing ourselves into travel again. It had sunsets worth stopping for, cliffs dramatic enough to justify the crowds, and enough minor inconveniences to keep expectations in check (bloody tourists). Between expensive beers, mischievous monkeys, unfinished plans and unexpected upgrades, it did exactly what a first stop should do: slowed us down, took the edge off the journey, and reminded us that not every place needs to deliver everything. Sometimes it’s enough to sit on a balcony, look out over a large, empty stretch of ocean, and let the days gently rearrange themselves before moving on.
