Australians have enjoyed a long love affair with Bali for decades and more than a million of us head to the holiday spot each year.
But after spending 10 days in Uluwatu this month, I had no doubt that our obsession with cheap drinks, lax rules and cliffside beach clubs has come at a cost.
I can’t help but feel as if the old charm of Bali that I first experienced as a 12-year-old in 2010 has all but disappeared, and we tourists only have ourselves to blame.
On that first trip I braided my hair, tried nasi goreng for the first time, visited the rice fields, and rode a horse along the beach at sunset.
But after my most recent vacation, my image of Bali as a tropical island paradise has been tarnished and I’m in no rush to return.
My boyfriend and I opted to stay in a private villa in Uluwatu, a small cliffside village on the southwest coast of the Bukit Peninsula.
The area has become a hub for “digital nomads”: people who spend half the day working remotely in trendy cafes and the other half at the gym or on the beach.
I was surprised by how attractive they were. All the time spent on self-improvement and the ice bath or spa seemed to be paying off.
But behind its seemingly perfect exterior hid a rather unpleasant reality.
I’m sad to admit that my decade-long love affair with Bali has come to an end: the constant construction, the smell of sewage, and the polluted beaches don’t leave me relaxed at all.
Despite the picturesque scenes, I quickly found that I couldn’t relax amidst the constant grinding of power tools from a construction site just meters from our villa’s pool (pictured).
Uluwatu has earned a reputation as a tranquil coastal paradise where tourists can escape the madness of areas such as Seminyak, Canggu and Kuta.
But this is not the impression I had after the tourist boom. It was disturbing to see the effects of rapid growth and overdevelopment in Uluwatu.
Construction sites of new Santorini-inspired villas, cafes and boutiques have become an integral part of a stay in Uluwatu.
The warnings I received about the “constant” construction noise were no joke.
From 8am to 6pm, the high-pitched screech of power tools just meters from our “private” villa meant that most days ended with a headache.
It became increasingly difficult to relax amidst the constant hum of an electric saw cutting materials to build another Instagram-worthy villa next door.
Traffic is extremely congested on the narrow roads, especially in the evenings when tourists rush to get a front-row seat to watch the sunset.
The waves at beaches like Padang Padang, Bingin and Balangan were busier than I remembered, and even became violent.
My boyfriend was shocked to see an angry surfer push another man off his board after a wave cut him off.
And I can only imagine the frustration Balinese surfers feel having to compete with an endless stream of self-important tourists for the best waves.
Padang Padang Beach in Uluwatu is a popular swimming and surfing spot for tourists (pictured)
Then, the smell. No matter how much you spend on accommodation in Bali, you won’t be able to escape the smell of sewage and rotting garbage.
During my last swim at Bingin Beach, a bag of dog poop floated past my head.
It also became increasingly difficult to ignore the stark contrast between the wealth of the tourists and that of the locals.
A Balinese driver told me that hospitality workers earn a flat rate of about IDR$3,000,000 (AU$290) a month, less than the cost of a sunset stall at Uluwatu’s Single Fin restaurant.
In addition to constant construction, congestion and crowded surf breaks, Bali is facing an even bigger problem with its freshwater supply.
Several regions are running out of fresh water at an alarming rate and experts warn that the entire island will experience a “water crisis” as early as 2025.
The Gili Islands, a popular surfing and party destination, face total collapse if water sanitation systems are not urgently installed, with Nusa Penida, Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Ceninga islands monitoring water shortages.
And again, tourism seems to be the culprit. Official estimates from an international forum this year revealed that the hotel sector uses 56 percent of Bali’s total water supply.
Bali is running out of fresh water at an alarming rate and some experts warn that a “water crisis” will hit the entire island by 2025 (pictured, popular sunset spot Ulu Cliffhouse in Uluwatu)
But the Indonesian government shows no signs of slowing down, and its new president this week recommitted to plans to build a new airport in Bali.
Prabowo Subianto said the airport would transform his country into the region’s “new Singapore or Hong Kong”, despite pushback from locals, who previously saw the project shelved due to concerns about overdevelopment.
In the first seven months of 2024, Bali welcomed 3,358,899 foreign tourists, an increase of 22 percent compared to the same period last year.
Up to 1.2 million Australians visited Bali in 2023, triple the number of visitors from any other country, with others opting to move there permanently.
My decade-long love affair with Bali ended in heartbreak.
But I will always treasure the memories I have made on the island, as well as the warmth and hospitality of the Balinese people, something I hope never changes.