What Bali teaches you in five minutes: let go or suffer!

I had everything planned, every detail sorted, and on day one my scooter broke down halfway to the Tegallalang rice terraces. Result: forty minutes walking under a blazing sun, Yuuki clinging to my bag like his life depended on it. And you know what? That moment set the tone for the whole trip. In Bali during summer, the heat is thick, almost tangible, and you have to learn to slow down from day one, whether you like it or not. When I finally reached the bamboo walkways, the smell of damp earth mingled with offering flowers lifted my spirits completely. The second big shock I never saw coming either. At the Ubud market, I was looking for a simple wicker basket, and Yuuki decided to make himself at home in it before I even finished haggling. The vendor laughed so much she gave me an unbeatable price. I swear, travelling with a cat has its perks. What I understood that morning: arriving early at the market, before nine o'clock, changes everything. The colours are more vivid, the air is still cool, and the vendors are in a far better mood. The sound of temple bells from nearby mingles with the voices, and the whole thing forms something strangely soothing. My real revelation came much later, one evening at Uluwatu. I'd come for the sunset over the temple, like everyone else, and then the Kecak dancers began. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to be so moved by something I'd seen a hundred times in photos. The fire, the voices, the orange light on the cliffs... Yuuki was staring at the flames without blinking, which mildly concerned me. I ended the evening with satay from a roadside stall, sitting on the ground, and it was probably the best meal of the whole trip!