April 2024
After a few days of temples, waterfalls, and jungle adventures, our next activity involved something much simpler: bicycles.
The plan was to ride through the Kintamani region, passing villages, rice fields, farms, and rural communities while gradually making our way downhill through the countryside.
Before we even started, however, I managed to add another injury to my growing collection from the trip.
While testing my bike and getting familiar with the brakes, I squeezed a little too enthusiastically and promptly launched myself off the bike. As I landed, the pedal spun around and struck me squarely in the shin, creating an impressive goose egg and several new bruises.
The actual ride improved considerably after that.
For the most part, cycling was an enjoyable way to experience the landscape. The route wound through villages, agricultural areas, and stretches of countryside that would have been easy to miss from the window of a tour bus.
The only downside came when the route occasionally joined Bali’s busy roads. The contrast between quiet rural lanes and congested traffic was significant, and I was always happy when we turned back onto smaller roads.
One of the things that stood out most was seeing the rice harvest underway.
Many visitors admire Bali’s rice terraces from scenic viewpoints, but this was an opportunity to see them as working farms. During the ride, we stopped at a rice paddy where members of the family walked us through the growing and harvesting process. Standing in the fields while hearing directly from the people who worked them added a level of appreciation that no viewpoint or guidebook could provide.
We watched rice being harvested, bundled, carried, and processed using methods that have sustained Balinese communities for generations. What many visitors see as beautiful scenery is also an agricultural system that remains central to everyday life.
The ride also provided a closer look at village life. Small shrines appeared beside homes and businesses, another example of how religion remains integrated into daily routines rather than separated from them.
Like much of Bali, the weather had its own plans.
Partway through the ride, a storm rolled in. We quickly abandoned any thoughts of continuing and joined the locals under a series of awnings while the worst of the rain passed through. Within minutes, the roads were soaked and the surrounding landscape disappeared behind a curtain of rain.
As quickly as it arrived, the storm moved on. Once the rain eased, everyone climbed back on their bikes and we continued down the road.
One of the highlights of the day came when we stopped at the home of the bicycle tour company owner.
Rather than a quick refreshment stop, we were invited onto the property and given a tour of the family compound. We learned how traditional Balinese homes are organized and the purpose of the different buildings within the compound. Like so many things in Bali, the layout reflected a blend of practical living space, family traditions, and spiritual beliefs.
The visit concluded with an elaborate home-cooked lunch that was far more substantial than anyone expected. After spending the morning on bicycles, nobody had any trouble finding room for another plate of food.
What I appreciated most about the day was that it offered a perspective on Bali beyond the temples and tourist sites.
The ride wasn’t physically demanding. There were no dramatic challenges to overcome and no adrenaline-fueled moments.
Instead, it provided a chance to move through the landscape at a slower pace.
By bicycle, it was easier to notice the details. Farmers working in the fields. Families going about their day. Small shrines tucked beside homes. The rhythm of daily life continuing much as it has for generations.
By the end of the ride, my shin had acquired another colorful bruise, but it felt like a small price to pay for one of the most authentic glimpses of rural Bali during the trip.
