My Favorite Spots in Bali (Beyond the Beach Clubs and Smoothie Bowls)

Bali smells like incense and frangipani, sounds like scooter horns and gamelan, and tastes like sambal and salt spray.

It’s a place where every other traveler has a “hidden gem” and every café has a smoothie bowl with a flower on top.

But after years of hopping between coasts, diving coral gardens, and burning through flip-flops, I’ve built my own list of favorites.

They’re not necessarily secret.

They’re not always glamorous.

But they’re the places I keep coming back to, where I’ve had the best swims, the longest sunsets, and the kind of moments that lodge themselves in your memory without asking.

Uluwatu

Uluwatu is one of the few places where I’ve almost walked into a wall because I couldn’t stop staring at the horizon.

The cliffs here drop dramatically into the Indian Ocean, and the sunsets look like they’ve been painted with every shade of orange Bali can find.

I actually used to live here for a while with my ex.

He’d be up before the sun every single morning, already heading out with his board to chase waves, living his best life.

I’d wake up to the smell of coffee and the sound of him waxing his surfboard, then roll over and go back to sleep because surfing was not my jam.

If you’re not into surfing, living in Uluwatu can feel a little isolated.

The community here revolves around swell reports and post-surf smoothie bowls. Thanks to him, I had a built-in group of surfer friends, but on my own, it might’ve been a bit lonelier.

I’ve spent lazy mornings wandering down the steps to Thomas Beach, towel over my shoulder, dodging the odd monkey eyeing my water bottle.

I’ve had long afternoons at Bingin Beach, where the tide retreats to reveal wide sand perfect for barefoot walks.

And once, I splurged on a night at Le Cliff, where my balcony felt like it was dangling over the sea.

The coconuts there cost twice as much as they should, but sipping one while the sun sank into the ocean? Worth it.

Evenings in Uluwatu sometimes mean a quiet dinner at Satu Uluwatu, other times it’s nasi campur at Warung Via Solo.

And once in a while, I’ll drag myself to Uluwatu Temple for the Kecak dance at sunset, equal parts breathtaking and chaotic, thanks to the thieving monkeys that have zero respect for personal property.

Nusa Dua

I adore the ocean, but I also like leaving it with all my limbs intact.

That’s why Nusa Dua’s calm waters are such a gift.

Geger Beach and Samuh Beach are where I go when I want to swim, not surf, where the waves roll in gently instead of body-slamming you into the sand.

One morning, I rented a paddleboard here just after sunrise.

The water was so glassy it felt like floating on a mirror, and the only sounds were my paddle dipping in and out and the faint chatter from fishermen already hauling in the day’s catch.

By 8 a.m., I’d already had my fill of sea and sun, and I sat on the sand with an iced coffee watching the tide pull away from the reef.

Sure, Nusa Dua’s lined with resorts, but you don’t have to be a guest to enjoy the beaches.

Sometimes I like it here precisely because it’s a little polished and predictable, a calm reset before diving back into Bali’s wilder corners.

Amed & Tulamben

There’s something about Amed that makes my breathing slow down the moment I arrive.

Maybe it’s the sound of the waves lapping against the fishing boats, or the sight of Mount Agung watching over the coastline like a silent guardian.

The first time I came here, I planned for just a couple of diving sessions at the USAT Liberty Wreck in Tulamben.

I ended up staying for three days.

The first time I descended and saw its coral-covered frame stretching out in the blue, it felt like discovering a lost world.

Schools of fish streamed past me like shimmering confetti, and a giant trevally swam close enough for me to see the tiny scar above its eye.

I also did my PADI Rescue Diver certification here which is where I discovered that dragging a tall, solid Lithuanian man 200 meters through the water while practicing a surface rescue is no joke.

Somewhere between breaths, I almost accidentally kissed my instructor during the mouth-to-mouth practice, which we both pretended didn’t happen.

By the time I reached “shore,” my arms felt like they’d been replaced with overcooked noodles.

Now I come back for both the underwater adventures and the quiet topside life.

Evenings here mean grilled mahi-mahi eaten with my feet in the sand, and mornings start with coffee and a sunrise so pink it looks fake.

Menjangan Island

Reaching Menjangan is a bit of a journey, hours from the airport, through quiet villages and coconut groves but the first time I slipped into its turquoise water, I forgot the drive completely.

The wall dives here are unreal, dropping into deep blue with coral and sponges that look like they’ve been curated for a BBC documentary.

My first time here, I was still drying off from a dive when a small herd of deer wandered down to the shore and stood watching us like we were the strange ones.

Menjangan is part of West Bali National Park, and it feels like it.

No beach clubs, no traffic noise, just water so clear you can count the fish before you even put on a mask, and sunsets that turn the whole island gold.

Nusa Lembongan

Back in 2017, I started coming to Nusa Lembongan almost every weekend.

Partly because I was dating someone who lived there, and partly because the island just got under my skin in the best way.

It’s small enough to circle on a scooter in under an hour, but packed with enough charm to fill a week.

Days here are slow: swims at Dream Beach, sunset beers at Mushroom Bay, manta ray snorkels.

One evening, I ended up on a clifftop in Nusa Ceningan after missing a turn, and watched the sky bleed into every shade of purple while the waves exploded against the rocks below.

Even now, years later, Lembongan is my go-to when I need a break from Bali without really leaving Bali.

It’s the kind of place where you lose track of time and the only “rush hour” is the queue for the boat back to Sanur.

Other Corners I Love

When I want rice terraces without the Ubud crowd, I head to Sidemen, where I once got caught in a surprise downpour on my scooter and ended up sheltering in a tiny warung, sipping hot tea with the owner until the rain eased.

For quiet diving and an even quieter village, Pemuteran is my pick, it’s the sort of place where you recognize the same faces in the warung each night.

Bali will always have its beach clubs and smoothie bowls, but my best memories here aren’t served in a coconut shell.

They’re from mornings spent watching Mount Agung turn gold, afternoons swimming in calm bays, and dives where I forgot the rest of the world existed.

If you’ve got your own not-so-obvious Bali favorite, tell me, I might just add it to my next island loop.

Thank you for reading and now back to happily roaming!