Bryson writes · Bali, Indonesia · 5–14 February 2026
Open the camera roll (12 photographs)
Open the camera roll (12 photographs)
Bali, Indonesia
We landed in Bali late at night after a long travel day from Malaysia.
The taxi crawled through traffic while what looked like entire bachelorette parties flew past on scooters. Celine Dion played through the crackling speakers. She would accompany nearly every taxi ride we took in Bali. We never found out why, but the pattern was impressively consistent.
We reached our hotel in Canggu in pouring rain. We were wet, exhausted, and asleep almost immediately.
The garden was full of tropical birds and the remains of a flying fox’s breakfast. I got into the pool while Emily studied a map.
We had somehow landed in what Bo Burnham would call a “white woman’s Instagram.” Canggu had puppy yoga, boutique gyms, smoothie bowls, and enough brunch cafés to occupy someone for months.
The café across the road became our regular. We stopped there almost every day.
We walked to the black sand beach, ate lunch above the surf, and watched surfers spend far more time standing on boards than we expected.
On the way back, we passed a pack of dogs that appeared to own the neighbourhood. I would like to think they were happy to see us. We did not know whether they were vaccinated, so we admired them from a sensible distance.
One evening I ordered food from a local shop. It arrived wrapped in banana leaves inside a woven basket. We ate beside the pool for Valentine’s Day. It was one of our favourite meals of the trip.
Emily then decided we should learn to surf.
She found instructors on the beach. After two hours of swallowing seawater and repeatedly falling off, we both managed a few seconds standing. We were exhausted and full of seawater, but we had done it.
The following day we went inland. We hiked through jungle, crossed rice terraces, used zip lines, and stopped at a coffee plantation. The amount of green was ridiculous.
We visited temples and passed several community celebrations from the road. When an event was clearly open to visitors, we stopped to look. Otherwise, we kept moving.
We also investigated the famous beach clubs during the quieter hours. They were enormous. It felt like visiting the set of Squid Game after replacing every contestant with a wealthy influencer wearing glitter and holding a cocktail. We watched it like a safari and did not return at night.
I still do not quite know what I think of Bali.
The part of Canggu we saw was full of cafés and carefully staged photo spots. A few minutes away, the same taxi route passed temples, rice fields and neighbourhood celebrations. We had only seen a small slice of the area.
We went for the beaches and learned to surf badly.
Celine Dion followed us everywhere. I still cannot explain that part.
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