The Story Behind the Photograph: Lovina Beach, Bali
Thursday, January 16, 2025
In August 1988 I was nearing the end of what would be a 17 month journey. At this point I had spent a couple of weeks in the United States en route to New Zealand. In New Zealand a two week stay morphed into three months. From New Zealand I traveled to Australia where I spent a year. Now I was on the home straight back to England.
The home straight included stopping off in Indonesia for about six weeks. I flew from Darwin in northern Australia to Denpasar in Bali. From there I made my way to Kuta, based on advice from fellow travelers, and found a small place to stay.
My memory was that I did not like Kuta. However, I still spent a few days there, getting my bearings, figuring out how things worked in Bali, and then being grounded by a day of torrential rain. Despite a few sentences in my journal expressing my dislike of Kuta,
Kuta really is a nothing place though.
I wandered to the beach, obscenely busy.
One thing around here is that you are constantly being hassled for whether you want transport, a bemo, “Where are you going?” they say.
Tomorrow I must get out of here regardless. There is just nothing to do.
I actually went into a lot of detail about what I was seeing. Not just the structural aspect of the area, but the cultural influences as well.
A lot of the “roads” were no more than alleyways or “gangs” as they are called.
When we arrived here there was a strong smell of incense about the streets and I noticed mainly beside the road, but also in little “temples,” small woven trays (out of leaves), with an arrangement of flowers and leaves in them. Put into these were incense sticks. There might be a couple outside each stall. Sometimes you would see a person carrying a few on a tray.
I have seen bicycles around the place absolutely laden down with gear. I turned a corner and almost walked into one such bike.
I accompanied these observations in my journal with little sketches.
I did not like what I will call the touristy, exploited nature of the area. I remember hearing once that first the hippies arrive (wherever in the world that might be) and then the developers. I can’t wipe my hands clean of leaving an imprint from my travel, being a foreigner traveling through a culture that is not my own. I do hope though that I brought some consciousness to my travels and perhaps less of an exploitative imprint? Future generations will adjudicate that.
Heading North
Kuta is on the south shore of Bali. I did not stay long there, and after a few days started to make my way over the island to the north shore. I cannot remember what drew me to the north shore, but again I will guess that it was the coconut wireless of fellow travelers. En route I stopped in Ubud and again in Tirtha, situated in an old volcanic crater. While there I climbed Mt Batur.
I wrote some notes of the final part of the journey down to Lovina Beach,
Meanwhile the bemo journey was turning into a bit of an adventure within itself. People were really being squashed in. Andrew (a fellow traveler) who is 6ft 7in+ was sort of folded in. A woman next to Tam (another fellow traveler) was being sick into a bucket; no one gave a dam, just ignored her. Chickens on board chirped and most other people slept; Indonesians have an uncanny knack of falling asleep as soon as they get on a bemo. The guy next to me fell asleep with his head on my shoulder and promptly woke up as soon as the bemo arrived at his stop.
The north shore was a lot more tranquil than the south.
The hills came down to fields and then just on from the road there was the sea. This looked like what I had been looking for.
We were dropped off at Lovina Beach. Accommodation was offered in family homes, in losmen as they were called. Places to eat were small shacks on the beach. Fishing boats were dragged up on the beach when they were not out. The north shore was a restful place as this photograph will testify to, taken at sunrise one morning.
A small group of us who had traveled here together found a Buddhist temple not far way. The predominant religion in Bali is Hinduism, while the rest of Indonesia is Muslim. This Buddhist temple was a minority faith on the island.
Then and Now
As I said, this was all in 1988. I wonder what the island looks like now? I wonder what has followed in the wake of us travelers? I have family members who visit regularly because of work, but I myself have never been back. My subsequent Indonesian journey took me across north shore of Bali to the east, from where I caught a ferry to the island of Lombok. After some time in Lombok, I crossed back across Bali’s south shore to catch a ferry to Java in the West.
I returned to Bali for a flight to Hong Kong, and from there onto England.