Bali Adventure

Bali - A Journey of Firsts, Fruit, Fear and Forgotten Flights

 By Dianne Dunchie-Coley

My trip to Bali was one of adventure, reflection, and many unforgettable firsts. As a solo traveller, I cherish the freedom of moving to my own rhythm—exploring new cultures and connecting with people on my own terms. Bali gave me all of that and more.

From the outset, the island welcomed me warmly. But not without a few heart-thumping moments. One of my most daring choices was hopping onto the back of a motorbike—no helmet, just wind, wheels, and wild prayer. The experience was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. With each twist and turn down narrow roads and through swarming traffic, I found myself whispering desperate prayers to God:
“Lord, if you get me to my destination safely, I swear I’ll never do this again.”

Spoiler alert: I did survive. And I kept that promise, the ride reminded me of how thrilling and humbling new experiences can be.

I had hoped to visit the famous Monkey Forest in Ubud, but fate (and TikTok) had other plans. After seeing a video of a tourist being boxed down by a particularly assertive monkey, I reconsidered.
Call me scared if you like, but I am Jamaican.
And as we say at home: “A coward man keeps sound bones.” I chose safety, and my bones remain intact, thank you very much.

Unlike most tourists who rush to the beach upon arrival in Seminyak, I made my way straight to the local market. For me, the soul of any place lies in its markets. I love mingling with locals, sampling street fruits, and soaking in the textures of everyday life. I wandered through vibrant stalls, speaking with vendors, asking the names of exotic fruits and tasting them with pure delight—though my memory failed to hold onto most of the names.

I chose a beautifully juicy, ripe mango, rambutan  and a fruit one vendor explained as a “kiwi cousin," and a few other fruits I’d never seen before. When I returned to my hotel and unpacked my treasure, the fruit labelled ‘kiwi cousin’ emitted a scent that made my heart skip, naseberry. The aroma pulled me back to my Jamaican childhood. And when I sliced it open, there it was. Sweet, soft, and familiar. That one fruit, in a foreign land, tasted like home.

One of the highlights of my trip was visiting the famous Aloha Swings in Ubud. Suspended high above lush rice terraces, the swings offered an exhilarating rush as I soared through the air, the wind whipping past and the jungle stretching endlessly below. For a moment, it felt like I had left the earth entirely. The view was breathtaking, and though it was a well-trodden tourist spot, it was worth every second. My laughter echoed across the treetops, pure, uninhibited joy.

Despite the well-meaning advice from fellow travellers to avoid Bali belly at all costs, I couldn’t resist the lure of street food. The sizzling skewers, fragrant rice dishes, and bubbling broths beckoned from every corner. I approached with caution, but I ate boldly. From nasi goreng wrapped in banana leaves to satay grilled over open flames, every bite was a gamble and every bite was worth it. I trusted the vendors and my instincts, and to my surprise (and relief), I walked away unscathed and utterly satisfied

This trip was rich in firsts. I stayed in a traditional Balinese house that had no air conditioning. It had an open-air shower and toilet, and an honest confrontation with Bali’s relentless heat. One particularly scorching night, on the verge of heatstroke, I walked straight from my bed  into the shower in the dark. I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights. Water cooled my skin and clarity returned. I went back to bed, only to be awakened later by the sound of rustling. I flicked on the light to discover a cat rummaging through my leftovers like a seasoned scavenger. Another first.

And then there was the grand finale: I forgot my flight. I didn’t know what day it was.

Yes, I missed my connection from Bali to Malaysia. A rookie mistake, perhaps. But it wouldn’t be a true adventure without at least one chaotic moment. And in true traveller fashion, I adjusted, recalculated, and moved forward—wiser, humbler, and still very much enchanted.

Bali challenged and charmed me. It gave me stories to tell, fears to conquer, and flavours to savour. It reminded me that adventure isn’t always glossy or comfortable, but it is always worthwhile.