I first visited Bali in the early noughties, taking a mini break with my mum and brother after a family visit just a short hop away over in Java. Even as a moody, unruly, and utterly bewildered tween, I couldn’t help but feel the island’s magnetism.
There was something about Bali – distinctive, unforgettable, yet hard to pin down. It wasn’t until years later, during a conversation about what makes Glastonbury so special, that I heard about the ancient phenomena of ley lines and began to understand the island’s enigmatic charm.
Bali, it turns out, is said to be intersected by ley lines (ancient pathways drawn between historic structures) that converge at not one, but six sacred sites, making it a spiritual mecca. While the island shares cultural threads with neighbouring Java, Bali stands out from its 17,000 (and counting) Indonesian island siblings. Despite being part of a predominantly Muslim nation, Bali remains deeply rooted in its Hindu faith – a telling testament to the islanders’ resilience and devotion. This unique form of Hinduism – enriched by animism, Buddhism, and ancient traditions – shapes nearly every aspect of life on the island, imbuing it with an undeniable sense of peace that continues to captivate people from around the world.
Beyond spirituality, there’s nowhere quite like it, and Bali’s simple pleasures make it incredibly easy to become sentimental about. When I reminisce, it’s sensory. The sticky, balmy air is laced with the sweetness of incense that emanates from one Canang Sari offering to the next, punctuated by frangipani flowers and the haze of kretek – clove-infused cigarettes favoured by old-school locals. The island’s soundtrack is equally evocative; the chime of the gamelan goes hand in hand with the soothing sounds of water, whether it’s the gentle lapping of waves on the shoreline, the rhythmic flow through terraced rice paddies, or the hidden streams in the depths of the rainforest.
In the heat of day, you’ll be satiated by the island’s native delights – juicy papaya, refreshing coconut, and the exotic flavours of mangosteen, rambutan, and, for the sensorially adventurous, the notorious durian. Come sundown, warungs are brought to life with the sizzle of steel pans tossing hearty servings of Indonesia’s beloved Nasi Goreng. The pace is slow, and days are best savoured in a contemplative, meditative state. Yes, the mosquitoes are as rife as the street dogs, but so too are the smiles of the inherently warm Balinese people.
Every year, drawn by tales of its spiritual energy and healing powers, people flock to Bali in hopes of creating their own version of Eat, Pray, Love – and it’s easy to see why. Bali offers an array of island clichés that live up to the hype; tropical beaches against a backdrop of mountains and volcanoes, rhythmic surf breaks, world-class diving, and a strong dose of culture through ancient temples and its revered emerald rice terraces that have earned UNESCO World Heritage status. Beyond its rich landscape, luxurious spas and world-class beach clubs are also in abundance.
But, like many places that are synonymous with paradise, the island has suffered from the strains of over-tourism in recent years. Areas such as Canggu (once known for its low-key lustre) have lost some of their original appeal as they’ve become increasingly crowded and commercialised. Yet, Bali still beckons – its simple pleasures remaining unchanged with every visit I’ve had in the last 20 years. Leaving behind the London smog one evening, I arrive late the next. A little less bewildered, and a lot less unruly than during my first visit, I find myself ready for respite. Here in Bali, is somewhere I know I’ll get just that.
The next morning, I awake as if I’m still within a dream. Nature serves as my alarm clock – a backdrop of silence layered with the sounds of exotic birdsong, chirping crickets, and the distant cascade of a waterfall. I lay a little longer in bed – canopied in wispy white cotton drapery, it’s a cloud-like sleep sanctuary. Before five minutes is up, my heavenly snooze is interrupted by the sudden realisation of where I am and I throw back the bed’s drapes, giddy to see if it’s really true.
I’m lucky enough to be staying in one of the 16 open-concept bales (pronounced ‘bah-leh’(s), and technically classed as villas) at Buahan, a Banyan Tree Escape. Eponymous of its neighbouring village, the Buahan resort is set in an off-the-beaten-track, 12-acre enclave of untouched rainforest 45 minutes drive north of Ubud. Entirely a ‘no doors, no walls’ concept, you’re as close to nature as a luxury hotel will allow. Beyond the exceptionally warm service and adults-only stipulation, luxury facilities include a yoga pavilion, two spa suites, and the resort’s main pavilion – which, over two floors plays host to a lobby, restaurant, and bar, all fronted by a jaw-droppingly beautiful outdoor infinity pool suspended out over the jungle. Sprawled across the valley’s edge as it undulates from rice terrace to rainforest, the view from wherever you are is endlessly verdant.
In each bale, only bamboo roller blinds and breezy cotton curtains stand between you and the breathtaking view – if you ever choose to lower them, that is. Inspired by traditional Balinese pavilions known as a Bale Bengong (literally translating to thinking, or daydream house) every bale is designed to make the most of its surroundings, with plenty of indoor-outdoor spots to laze, lounge, and just be. If not soaking in the hand-smithed copper bathtub or floating in the private plunge pool, reclining on the beautiful hand-carved teak daybed will delightfully suffice.
Scattered throughout the valley connected by winding stone pathways and a discreet wooden funicular, the bales are divided into five categories, differentiated only by vantage point. Lower down, the atmosphere is more intimate with a choice of three views – nestled within the rainforest, with the Ayung river flowing below, or perched above a waterfall. As you ascend, the experience becomes more ethereal, with higher bales offering an ‘in the clouds’ experience. Level with the main pavilion and its infinity pool, they showcase sweeping vistas across the valley, and from certain bales, Bali’s majestic seven peaks. From whichever option, watching the landscape shift from dawn to dusk – whether bathed in sunshine, drenched by rainfall, or enveloped in mist – is nothing short of sublime. Particularly as someone who lives in central London, Buahan delivers nature’s most compelling invitation to disconnect and immerse oneself in the moment.
Despite feeling as though it has always been at one with the landscape, the hotel launched in mid-2022 just after Indonesia’s travel restrictions were lifted post-pandemic. The first of its kind, the ‘Escape’ concept embodies Banyan Tree Group’s vision and commitment to creating immersive experiences combining deep nature and sustainable design. Not a claim to be taken lightly, Banyan Tree Group’s approach was carefully considered. Having been custodians of the unfarmable land for two decades and in development for four of those years, it’s safe to say, Buahan has been a long time in the making.
Even with the building footprint being relatively small in comparison to the land span, crafting its biophilic design has been a meticulous process to ensure the surrounding environment has been preserved with a holistic approach to sustainability, including building a strong relationship with the local community. Gede Kresna, a local architect recognised for sustainable Balinese design and environmentally friendly architecture, headed up the project, working in collaboration with Banyan Tree Group’s Head of Architecture, Dharmali Kusumadi. Before putting pen to paper on the drawing boards, Kresna and his team embarked on an extensive four-month research project that took a deep dive into the sociological and cultural aspects of the land within an hour’s radius, as well as studying localised natural design and construction methods.
Used as a footing for the hotel’s narrative, the initial research is visible every which way, from their curated experiences to the architecture or gastronomic offerings. The restaurant-come-open-kitchen naturally forms the heart of the hotel as it would in any Southeast Asian home. Guests are more than welcome to linger by the big island that separates the kitchen from the seating – pick something from the daily spread of exotic fruit, or simply watch the chefs in action. On one occasion, an inquisitive guest wandered over to ask about some ingredients and they were welcomed in as if it were their friend’s home.
Familiar and down-to-earth but with a carefully curated menu more than worthy of Buahan’s five-star rating, here the culinary concept manages to make fine dining feel intimate and relaxed with complete ease. A nourishing celebration of Indonesian flavours, the zero-waste menu uses only ingredients farmed and harvested locally, adapting to whatever is in season. 70 per cent plant-based with the occasional optional meat or seafood inclusion, vegetarians delight, and carnivores are left satisfied whether they indulge or not. Each tasting course is small but perfectly sumptuous, every dish served up as though a delicate work of art.
In the morning, a three-course breakfast complete with a spread of fresh fruits, bread and pastries, is worth peeling yourself away from the sanctuary of your bale – as difficult as that may be. On the first day, it’s here we meet with one of the chefs to embark on a culinary journey, Buahan style. Finishing off breakfast with a shot of the Botanist Bar’s take on Jamu Jamu (Indonesia’s ancient healing tonic) we hop into a 4×4 for a quick journey over to Singaperang Village, where we follow Agung Bagus on a tour of his farm.
Wicker baskets in tow, we forage for native fruits and edible plants, tasting raw coffee cherries and cemcem leaves along the way. As we take a break, a mother duck and her line of ducklings patter past whilst Agung’s wife prepares us local delicacies to sample. Chef tells us we have to try the farm’s raw honey (from stingless bees) before we leave, and gestures out toward towering trees where, much to my amazement, Agung is scaling a 50ft palm barefoot to retrieve the hive box hung at the top. As though it were no big deal, of course.
Upon returning to the hotel, we pass the literal fruits of our not-so-literal labour over to the kitchen to be used as ingredients for dinner service, or scrubs and oils for spa treatments. A Paon cooking class follows, using traditional techniques and heritage equipment. Blue-legged river prawns the size of langoustine are drenched in Bumbu (a marinade of Balinese spices) and smoked over a wood fire grill, whilst fragrant white fish simmers inside a fresh bamboo stem. Communal eating is the vibe, where we all gather round and lunch feasting style, passing dishes from one end of the table to the other.
The rest of our days here seem to run on an infinity clock, operating on one’s own time. Secret hideaway spots and walking trails scattered on and off the property, allow for exploration and contemplation. Every bale comes with an adventure kit for every eventuality – and its stylish at that. For rain, there’s huge umbrellas or waxed khaki ponchos. In the sun, there’s a wicker hat and tote, the latter of which also transforms into a backpack. At night, there’s a solar-powered lantern or torch. For those who like to holiday with structure, a schedule of daily activities from moon yoga to herbal scrub workshops, or even a mind and body cleansing ritual at Buahan’s very own waterfall can be booked ahead. Then, for the ultimate indulgence, there’s the open-air Toja Spa with its two intimate suites, where all treatments are based on local healing techniques. If sound healing and chakra balancing isn’t quite your thing, a traditional Balinese massage at the very least, is a must.
On another day, we explore by mountain bike. Though thankfully we’re ferried a little further away from the hotel’s steeply climbing terrain, to enjoy a leisurely ride on flatter plains. We glide down the Balinese equivalent of country lanes and weave our way through patches of palms and across the narrow borders of rice paddies. Seemingly out of nowhere, we stumble upon a herd of mystical white cows which are said to be sacred to the locals, and just a little further along we visit a firefly nursery working in partnership with the hotel. Facing extinction in many parts of the world, fireflies can only survive in healthy ecosystems free of pollution – which is a heart-warming thought as I reminisce on the nights we’ve witnessed their bioluminescence flicker around us at Buahan.
Continuing on, I wistfully think of the areas of the island affected by over-tourism and wonder if the crowds will ever come to disrupt this peaceful bucolic setting. My melancholic thoughts are dispersed as I spot a woman gently laying down a Canang Sari offering beside a small roadside shrine, reminding me of the Balinese people’s steadfast devotion to their land, faith, and heritage.
I come to realise that in Bali, the line between the past and the present is beautifully blurred. Rooted in a love of the island, Balinese Hinduism seamlessly weaves sustainability and environmental care into the fabric of daily life. As life evolves with time, the culture here shows how traditional beliefs can adapt to meet modern challenges with grace.
With new hospitality locations such as Buahan, a Banyan Tree Escape, embracing a new era of luxury – where ostentatiousness is replaced by a deep respect for the local environment and its communities – I can leave with a full heart, knowing the Bali I came back for is still here.
All image credit: Jess Miles
We may earn a commission if you buy something from any affiliate links on our site.
Any Questions or Tips to add?