It’s a humid Wednesday afternoon, I’m feeling groggy and carsick, but within seconds of arriving at Bombora Surf Camp I can tell that there’s something very special about Uluwatu. This is one of the places that I will talk about, I will dream about, and I will often feel drawn back to, but might forever be afraid to return in case I break the spell and ruin the magic.
By the time I get to Uluwatu, I’ve been in Bali for roughly ten weeks. And while I appreciate that’s not such a long time, it’s long enough to have made me a little bit complacent. I’ve started to take some things for granted. I have become so used to being surrounded by rice fields on my daily walks, and sometimes I allow myself to be distracted by the mundane everyday things, like laundry and visa extensions, and forget to stop and look around and allow this amazing place to take my breath away.
I’ve spent the past couple of weeks in Seminyak, a place I loved when I was here in 2020. It’s so alive and there’s an amazing buzz there, and the sunsets on Double Six beach are literally next level. But it’s a touristy place and I obviously look like a tourist, so I’ve been bombarded by people trying to sell me everything and anything. A simple walk to the shop is like running the gauntlet in an attempt to dodge offers of massages and laundry services at a good price, and cars and mopeds honking in the hope that I will make use of their unofficial taxi services.
So on this sticky Wednesday afternoon, I leave Seminyak and head to Uluwatu in need of a complete mindset reset. And I must admit, I’m feeling a little bit apprehensive. This will be my fifth accommodation on this trip, and all the others have ranged from good to great, so the law of averages is telling me that I’m due a major fail sometime soon. It turns out that I needn’t have worried just yet, because there’s something special about Uluwatu, and there’s something very unique about Bombora Surf Camp.
My taxi driver drops me sort of half way down the dirt lane leading to my home for the next seven days. There’s no option of bringing me any further. He can’t actually get the car around the corner. I’m greeted by construction works, not an ideal welcome but something I’ve become very used to by now. Bali is officially back in business and it sometimes feels like the whole island is just one big building site. I pick my steps down the rest of the walkway, and spot the sign for Bombora Surf Camp.
I’m honestly not at all prepared for what greets me at the bottom of the steps to the reception. I turn a corner and am faced with something that I would expect to find in Santorini (I haven’t been to Santorini, but thanks to Instagram, I obviously have a point of reference). There’s a cute little white and blue building that houses a pool room/hangout area, with a swimming pool alongside it and lots more little blue and white buildings, and an amazing view of the mountains in the background. Check-in goes smoothly and I’m shown to my room, which overlooks the pool and the stunning mountain views, and I’m left to enjoy what will be one of the best weeks I’ve had here in Bali so far.
Uluwatu is slow and lazy, and it’s just the escape I need after the bustle of Seminyak, and even Canggu. It has a vibe that reminds me of Byron Bay on the east coast of Australia. Bombora is alive with surfers and backpackers, swimming and chatting and occasionally working from their laptops. It’s not the “best” place I’ve stayed in traditional terms. It’s not fancy, and it can get a bit noisy at times, but the energy there is infectious and beautiful, and it picks me up and carries me along with it.
I spend my days eating delicious local food and enjoying the mountain views from my room. I walk to the local beaches and nervously watch the monkeys from a safe distance, I climb the steep steps down to enjoy strolling along the sand, and I am slightly ashamed to say that I never make it to the famous temple because I am enjoying the quiet inner state of just being, not being something or anything in particular, just being present.
I honestly don’t know what’s so special about this place. Of course it’s beautiful, I knew that before I came here, but there’s something more, something much deeper. As a restless wanderer, some places cannot be explained. They are overwhelmingly beautiful, but at the same time they fill me with a sense of peace and tranquility. They speak to me and they ground me, and for however long I am there, I forget to question my place in the world. Instead, I go through my days blissfully content, knowing that at this point in time, my place is quite simply here.
After a week of beautiful views and uninterrupted inner peace, I leave feeling refreshed, and knowing that, as cliched as it may sound, I am leaving a little piece of my heart here in this special place. But more importantly, I vow to take a little piece of its essence with me in return. I will keep it tucked away somewhere safe, a reminder that my hectic, racing mind is actually capable of slowing down and living in the moment. Because there is something about Uluwatu, and it is something that I will never quite understand but want to always remember.
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