Why I keep returning to Bali
Books on the long flight, new people and one more “last” trip to the island.
Every so often, after going around Europe yet again, I feel ready for another continent. And somehow Bali keeps being the place I want to return to.
Adapted from my travel notes dated 22 September 2026.
Seventeen hours to read
There is something appealing about a seventeen-hour flight instead of a two-hour one. Fifteen extra hours when I can legitimately read a book without thinking, “I have not checked my phone for five minutes. Something must have happened.”
I also like having a day that involves more walking than the distance between my computer and the kitchen.
A different social life
Even in Bali, where a Gojek ride often does the work of getting me from one place to another, going out feels easy. And I meet so many people.
Sometimes it is lovely to arrive somewhere as a new person. People do not start with “Oh, you are that Kat.” They start with “Who are you? Never mind, come and play Mafia with us.”
They do not even ask me to host the game, provided I keep quiet long enough about my lifelong hobby.
I have an unreasonable affection for this island. Part of me suspects I was an Australian hippie here in the seventies in a previous life. That might explain a few things.
The last time, again
“This is my last time, everyone,” we tell each other.
Some of us say it for the sixteenth time. Some for the fifth. Some have stopped saying it because they booked their January return yesterday.
Love you, Bali. You will have to put up with me a little longer.
For the practical start of another trip, read my Bali airport arrival guide. For another personal island letter, try Bali vs Madeira.
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