THE HAIRY GIRAFFE… IN INDONESIA
After a month in Indonesia, it’s time to reflect. How did we experience this journey? What were our joys, disappointments, questions, doubts, and discoveries? This is not merely an assessment of a country but rather of a trip—how we perceived it individually and subjectively.
 We are François and Benjamin, Canadian and French giraffe hairstylists and travel enthusiasts. On this blog, discover our travels, tips, moods, and everything you need to become a giraffe hairstylist and embark on travelling the world. An honest blog with photos guaranteed 100% unfiltered and untouched. |
Benjamin’s Travel Reflections
Planning our itinerary in Indonesia was one of the most challenging parts of preparing our 8-month world tour. For a long time, I pondered countless questions: which islands to visit? how much time for each island? how to travel between islands? between cities?…
I knew Java would definitely be on the itinerary: for me, Indonesia was all about volcanoes, and Mount Bromo was at the top of my list. But for the rest, between Bali, Flores, Komodo, Sumatra, Borneo, Sulawesi… how to choose?
In the end, the initial plan (one week in Java, two weeks in Bali, and one in Sulawesi) was intended to strike a balance between nature and culture, between highly touristy areas and more remote spaces, and between busy days and relaxation. However, sometimes plans clash with reality, and we had to revise our plans and cancel the week in Sulawesi due to recovering from dengue fever…
So, we spent one week in Java and three in Bali. This change was particularly heartbreaking because I didn’t particularly fall in love with Bali.
I knew Bali had a bit of a bad reputation: too touristy, too party-oriented, no longer authentic… But we had heard similar criticisms about Bora Bora, an island we had loved. So, I decided to keep Bali on the itinerary but diversify our route, between Munduk, Ubud, Kuta, and Amed, to see the different facets of the island.
Java was my Indonesian highlight. Certainly, traveling on the island means dealing with slow transportation, sometimes poor sanitary conditions, absurd tourist taxes and prices, and annoying scam attempts. Indeed, the cities lack architectural or cultural interest. However, the beauties of Prambanan, Borobudur, and Bromo alone make the trip worthwhile. Plus, the kindness of the locals adds a certain charm to the visit.
In Java, I felt like I was in another world, one of those places where you rediscover your adventurous spirit (even if hundreds of tourists are admiring the sunrise on Mount Bromo alongside you: the landscape is so immense that it’s easy to ignore them. And with a bit of patience, you eventually find yourself literally alone in front of this exceptional spectacle, as most tourists opt for the same guided tour that requires them to leave immediately after the first rays of sunlight appear).
When we crossed the narrow strait that separates Java from Bali, my first impression was wonderful: everywhere, statues and small temples. Everywhere, the tropical forest. Bali promised an incredible discovery between protected nature and fascinating religious culture. However, quickly, starting from Munduk, which was still relatively shielded from mass tourism, I understood that in Bali, the tourism god reigns without compromise. Every small waterfall, every mini temple, every stroll through rice paddies comes at a high price. The observation was the same in Java, but while the sites there were expensive, they were also exceptionally beautiful. In Bali, nothing seemed extraordinary to me.
However, we shouldn’t throw out the baby with the bathwater. In Bali, there are indeed very beautiful rural landscapes, and the religious architecture is sometimes magnificent. But instead of preserving its assets, the island has adapted too much to the tourists it welcomes.
Each city we visited attracts different types of tourists and seems to have entirely tailored itself to cater to their profiles. Kuta is a beach resort for Australians who come to drink beer or celebrate a bachelor party. On the other side of the island, Amed is a haven for French tourists who come for snorkeling in waters filled with plastic. Ubud attracts Westerners and Asians who want to fill their Instagram during the day and socialize in the evening. Munduk is frequented by European bloggers who explore the region on scooters in search of rural authenticity.
To cater to these tourists, the streets of Bali have become covered with Australian pubs, scooter rentals, massage centers, shops where fake Louis Vuitton bags mingle with wooden phalluses, diving centers where French is spoken, and Instagrammable spots that distort once beautiful landscapes of rice paddies or waterfalls… All of this in a cheerful chaos and complete anarchy.
In Bali, tourism accounts for 80% of the economy. So everyone wants their share. Every town hosts dozens of stores, all selling exactly the same things (often made in China). Everyone improvises as a taxi driver or professional masseur. Tourists can’t take a step without being solicited or even harassed to pay or buy something. The more touristy the town, the less genuine and cordial the interactions with locals tend to be.
And unfortunately, the landscapes and architecture of Bali are undeniably photogenic. I say unfortunately because, like the Philippines, the images of Bali are often deceptive and do not reflect the real experience.
Too many hotels have used influencers to take photos of their pools and rooms. So, you choose a hotel where everything seems to be calm, luxurious, and delightful. At least, that’s what the photos on Booking.com promise, with their maximum saturation and excessive use of HDR. What the photos don’t show is the incessant noise from honking horns, scooter engines, or the nearby bar that will prevent you from resting for a single moment. Similarly, the incredible photographs of terraced rice fields hide a sad reality: the most beautiful terraces are nothing more than an Instagram theme park and haven’t been cultivated by farmers for a long time…
Once again, I don’t deny the beauty of certain landscapes or temples, even though none of the sites stood out significantly to me as worth the trip alone. If I were to do it again, I would include Bali in my itinerary but dedicate only a short week to it: 2 days in Munduk, 1 day in Ubud, and 2 or 3 days visiting the main sites of the island by car. Despite the assurance of sunny weather only on the coast and frequent rain inland, I would gladly skip Bali’s beaches, which are far from being attractive, clean, or enjoyable.
A week in Bali is perfect not only to explore what the island has to offer in terms of interesting sights, but also to truly take the time to discover islands less shaped by tourism and venture into more authentic corners of Indonesia. And if dengue hadn’t knocked us out for a good week, we could have explored one of those corners in Sulawesi. One of my biggest regrets of this world tour…
Check out François’ Travel Reflections:
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