My unforgettable day away from mass tourism begins in the morning with a roughly 90-minute drive from Sanur on the east coast of the island towards the northwest. After 30 minutes, the surroundings become more rural, and after 60 minutes, I truly feel immersed in Bali, understanding the magic that defines this island.
This is Bali now, a bit eccentric, a bit uncoordinated, but always smiling and deeply rooted in spirituality. And now, the photo opportunities I've always admired in Bali come into view. The terrain becomes mountainous, the roads narrower and curvier, crossing small bridges where mountain rivers run clear, and the dense vegetation provides shade and coolness.
Then, for the first time, I see it—the sacred Mt. Batukaru, one of the most revered mountains in Bali. My initial instinct is to stop, and at a small rice field, we do just that. Nothing disrupts the tranquillity and atmosphere here. Only every 10-15 minutes, a scooter or car passes by, and people in the fields wave curiously and friendly.
Another 15 minutes and the landscape becomes even more wild and romantic, the villages more authentically Balinese. We stop, park the car, and embark on a 20-minute downhill walk until we reach Balikaru. The path takes us through natural forests, along rice fields, and past colossal old trees. All the rice fields here are cultivated and irrigated in a traditional manner.
Suddenly, we find ourselves in the upper part of the village, subtly, because everything here is green, densely covered, with picturesque houses surrounded by lovingly landscaped front yards or part of small tropical private plantations. Life here moves at a slow pace, as if modern Bali doesn't exist.
Across from us, in the small "tutoring school" operated voluntarily and supported by Balikaru, kids and teens gather in the afternoons to learn the old Balinese language, drawing, English, or simply more about local plants and animals.
Then, I enter through a small gate at Balikaru. The gentle splashing of a small fountain, meant to keep evil spirits away, sets the rhythm. I find myself in a vast garden oasis where countless herbs, spices, medicinal plants, as well as fruits, vegetables, and flowers, all grown without chemicals. The bamboo that borders the area is local, simply planted in the ground and already thriving.
This feeling of being in an authentic village and at home stays with me throughout the day in Balikaru. But then the activities begin— a guided tour of the garden and herbs. I can't remember all the names, but the locals, all from the village, forgive me and willingly repeat everything on request. We smell, taste, and collect ingredients, and fortunately, there's a small "map" of the garden, helping me find my way later in the afternoon.
In a small pavilion, all typically Balinese in design, open and natural, we prepare JAMU together—what I would call a super-food or rather a "super-health drink." It's an ancient tradition in Indonesia to create super-healthy drinks from roots, leaves, and fruits. Since there are recipes available later, I can recreate them at home.
After the first tasting of our self-made JAMU, we continue at Paon Bali, a traditional Balinese kitchen still using wood fires (admittedly, we cooked our dishes on small gas burners in this kitchen). What strikes me here is the blend of tradition and cleanliness. Chickens roam freely in the adjacent garden, just a meter away. Everything is open, and you can hear and feel the traditional village life. Yet, it's impeccably clean, and I feel like I could eat directly off the ground.
We hand-prepared a total of 9 dishes, spice pastes, and more, partly using a mortar and in a very traditional way, and later, we enjoyed them in the garden at Balikaru's Balinese Warung. Delicious! For those willing, try eating with your hands.
The atmosphere was so relaxed and joyful, like being at home. Everyone took care of us, and my favorite insider tip was the dessert made from black rice.
After cooking, we needed a break—perfect for taking photos or simply watching neighbors go about their daily lives, photographing the colorful roosters, or visiting the hidden nearby temple. In the Balinese Warung of Balikaru, also traditionally built and located in the garden, we ate our self-prepared food. Simply delicious. If you want, try eating with your hands.
The mood was so relaxed and cheerful, like being at home. Everyone took care of us, and my favorite insider tip was the dessert made from black rice.
Now, having experienced so much, we left Balikaru to walk through the village and get to know daily life: no resorts, no tourist attractions, just the lives of families here in the mountain village. We could ask, try things, and snack on fruits in the garden again. In one house a few days ago, a new family member had arrived, and the small temples for the newborn were being set up. It felt like one big family.
And then it became even more spectacular. The village is surrounded by mountains, small rivers, and numerous hills, with water rushing everywhere. People here grow not the "normal" but red and black mountain rice, very traditionally. The rice terraces here are indescribable. We had seen many in Bali, but the difference here is the tranquillity—wherever you look, only small offering bowls and farmers in the fields or children flying kites are visible—no tourist buses, no hustle, no noise—Bali in its purest form.
And then, the day is almost over. At a hot sulfur spring popular with locals, we get back in the car and head back to Sanur. Wow, what impressions and two entirely different faces of Bali in one day.