Uluwatu- Where the Cliffs Meet Silence

Travel has always felt like food for my soul. Those little escapes from the world feel like how life is meant to feel. But what makes travel truly special is that it always feels earned, deserved and deeply craved. Like meeting an old friend after a long time, one with whom you can finally be yourself.

Travelling to Bali was many things for me, and above all, it was liberating.

On our third anniversary, we made a rather random decision to travel to this beautiful group of islands. Bali was supposed to be our honeymoon destination, but COVID had other plans. So this time, we decided to finally gift each other the honeymoon of our dreams. With very little expectation (thanks to all the hype and overtourism around Bali) we applied for leaves and 2 long-haul flights and an angry PhD supervisor later, we were in Bali!

On our first day, despite being completely exhausted, we hired a scooty and somehow decided to ride for an hour to Uluwatu Temple. And thank God we did!

Uluwatu Temple sits on the southwestern edge of Bali, perched dramatically above the Indian Ocean, best visited closer to sunset when the light softens and the sea turns unreal. The roads leading to the temple were crazy, in the best way possible. The rolling stretches reminded me of the gentle hills from Teletubbies, and my husband led the way (in a rented scooty) through this enchanting landscape. I couldn’t stop recording videos. I don’t even know what I was trying to capture. Maybe the smiling faces from passing vehicles, or the grim looks we received while honking (apparently, we Indians were still learning the concept of not honking on every turn).

We reached, got our tickets, and walked through a beautiful garden that led us to the temple complex, crowded with tourists. I felt momentarily overwhelmed. Too much noise, too many mobile phones trying to capture everything, and monkeys running everywhere. A few sunglasses were snatched, followed by heroic rescue missions by the tour guides.

We decided to follow the overly excited tourists and then I looked down the cliff.

And that was it.

All the noise stopped.

No phones. No monkeys. No tour guides.

Just me, standing before a creation of nature so unreal it felt impossible. Black sand below, massive vertical cliffs where waves crashed with force, an impossibly clear blue sea, and the setting sun painting the water in shades of red, yellow, and orange. It felt as if someone had accidentally dipped their paintbrush in orange while colouring the ocean. But what a magnificent mistake it was!

In the distance, on another cliff, the Kecak dance was being performed. A ritual of fire and devotion, marking the triumph of good over evil.

That same day, the Pahalgam massacre had occurred back home.

Nature, divinity, and bloodshed aligned in my thoughts. As if reminding me how powerful, grave, and blissful God is. And how, if She truly rises, She would crush all the evil there is, and the world would once again return to blue seas and gentle sunsets!

You find nature at its absolute best in Bali. It feels as though God lives there. Why else would there be such unreal beauty? Not just in the landscapes, but in the people, their smiles, the scent the island carries, and in every Canang Sari placed with devotion.

So if you’re considering travelling to Bali, don’t dismiss it as overrated or merely a place to chill. It’s a place that changes you—quietly, deeply, and forever, for the better.

Happy travels, folks!