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The white sandy beaches and pristine waters offer a warm invitation to those who simply need to relax while the open waters, hiking trails, and historic attractions intrigue those who want to stay active. Are you ready to embark on a trip to Bali? Here are a few things you should know.
While on the island of Bali you will find that it is standard practice to leave tips for good services. But you should make sure that you are not being double charged. In restaurants, for example, the standard tip is 5-10% but some will include the charge automatically on your bill. Make sure to read the bill carefully before leaving any money behind.
It is not mandatory to tip car or taxi drivers but it is appreciated. When in a taxi, it is customary to simply round up your bill. If, for example, your tab is Rp16,050 you would round it up to Rp16,100 - or higher if you feel so inclined.
Your hotel will automatically include a 10% service charge in your bill. If you’d like to make sure a specific employee receives a tip from you than 5-10% of your bill is standard.
As with any trip, you should take standard safety precautions when traveling in any foreign destination. Don’t leave your belongings unattended, avoid flashing wads of cash, and don’t wear or carry jewelry or documents you don’t need.
While they are certainly attractive, it is best to avoid getting a henna tattoo while visiting Bali. Some of the shops that offer to give you henna tattoos are not actually using natural henna at all and tourists have been known to contract skin conditions after having a tattoo applied. Others put additives into the henna to make it darker, causing staining on the skin.
Traveling on the island of Bali will never cause you a problem. Most people choose to walk when moving about their resorts, while on the beaches, or when in the local villages. If you’d like to travel into the jungle or towards some of the towns a bit further away from the beaches you will need to find another method of transportation.
The most popular include the metered taxi or a chartered vehicle with a hired driver. If you do take a taxi, make sure that the meter is turned on before you embark on your journey to avoid the driver attempting to scam you by charging a high flat rate. If you take a private vehicle, or bemo, you should negotiate the rate with the driver before you head out.
If you’d like to be a bit more eco-friendly you could rent a bicycle at a daily rate. Plan each day in advance, though, and remember that not all of the roads in Bali are bicycle friendly. The roads are step and there is a lot of traffic in some areas.
The island of Bali is located just south of the equator so expect a tropical climate throughout the year, with temperatures averaging between 80 and 90 degrees Fahrenheit (26.6 to 32.2 degrees Celsius) throughout the year. With humidity levels averaging at 75%, however, the temperature is bound to feel much warmer.
The best time to visit Bali is between the months of May and September - especially during May, June, and July - when the climate is at its driest. The months between October and April are considered monsoon season, not as much because of the rain but because the high winds.
The language spoken by natives to Bali is called Bahasa Indonesia. While most travelers don’t speak Bahasa fluently, you will find it helpful to know a few phrases that you can use to communicate with the locals. Here are a few to get you started:
These are just a few phrases to get you started. You’ll find that speaking at least a few words of the native language will endear you to the locals and they may be more willing to help you in your travels.
You’ll love the sandy beaches, luxurious Bali hotels, friendly people, and incredible culture. All you need now is a plane ticket and a packed bag. Are you ready to head to Bali?
'You're in my seat,' says the father of this mixed family as the rest of his lot buckle themselves in. This man was so obese that his floppy gut was resting on my seat back and his face was dripping with sweat and indignation.
'Are you sure?' I say back calmly, I'm seat 20E.
'Yes I'm sure!' he snaps back. 'I'm sitting with my Family.' He makes a gesture to the mutt children he's produced with his Indonesian wife, who was probably was humble and skinny when they met, but (judging by the age of their kids) at least eight years of gluttony funded by the wallet of this American hoss has stuffed more junk in her trunk than a U-haul.
I pull out my ticket look to make sure. It's 20E, which would make it the middle seat of the row. But Marasco has 20F so it doesn't matter that we've swapped seats.
'No!' screams the big guy. 'You're 20E and she's 20F. You're in the middle and she's on the window. I'm 20D. On the aisle. With my Family.' He shoves his ticket into my face, his fat wrists swallowing the silver band of his expensive Tag Hauer watch.
I look the tickets and realize that he's right.
'I'm sorry,' Marasco chimes in to explain, 'We just got the order confused'.
'Well MOOOve!' he snorts, beginning to resemble more and more of a fat animal than anything close to a civilized human.
'Sorry man. You obviously need this seat more than me,' I say, getting up and changing to the middle...
Sitting in the middle seat of an airliner next to a fat man with the maturity of a Down Syndrome baby is a battle won primarily by leverage. I knew before I even sat back down that my goal was to occupy as much as physically possible of the armrest between me and him and to then hold down that position with the tenacity of a mother wolf protecting her cubs. I am fortunate enough to be able to more or less comfortably fit into an economy airline seat. If there's problem at all it's with leg room and the length, not width of the seats. But big boy had the opposite problem, and I wasn't about to let it get any better for him. I anchored my arm across the length of the armrest and didn't move it for the duration of the flight to Bali. Big boy didn't seem to notice though, as he was too busy occupying himself with his iPhone, despite the illegality of using a mobile phone while the plane is in the sky. Some people are above the law. Most everyone else just thinks they are. And when fatty wasn't breaking the law, he was busy breaking his young son's potential of ever speaking English properly by filling his head with shit like:
Mikey, which is more far? Bali or Jakarta? OR, Mikey, which is more far, Jakarta or Ameeeriiica?
I've never met other Americans when I've been out on the road. Most Americans don't travel. Only 20 percent of the country's 300 million citizens carry a passport and of that 20 percent, 80 percent will never use it.
So it's a statistical rarity to encounter an American outside of America. And you'd think it might be some cause for conversation or at least some common decency, but unfortunately this guys' flagrant and sadly representative Americanism is exactly the reason why that statistic should NEVER improve. Most Americans give Americans a bad name.
Anyway, back to Bali.
Originally, we intended to bypass the island entirely, instead spending the time trekking in East Java. But that plan didn't pan out and Bali then seemed like the best option. We've had some friends who've been to Bali and they've all said it's overrated. So when they said to avoid Kuta beach as it's 'absolute shit' we listened. We headed for the hills. Destination: the rural community of Ubud. 
We got a lift from the airport from a Balinese guy who worked at our hotel. He was chatty and better at talking to travelers than the other Indonesians we met thus far. Along the way to the town we noticed immediately how there were more cars on Bali than we saw on Java and also how much better condition the roads and infrastructure were in. This, no doubt, is a direct influence of tourism dollars.
The first thing I can say about Bali is that it's touristy. The next thing I can say is that it's deservedly so.
Bali is beautiful. And Ubud, especially, is a great example of the rich Balinese culture that makes the the island a mecca for international megatourism.
Upon arrival in Ubud, you'll immediately notice the ubiquitous presence of these palm-sized bamboo origami baskets that are stuffed with offerings of coloured rice and flowers and incense. These makeshift mandalas are scattered all over the community: carefully placed on the temple altars to the Balinese Hindu gods, planted on the hoods of cars or seats of motorbikes to keep the owners safe on the road, tucked inside restaurants and shops to bring in good luck and successful business, as well as thrown unceremoniously on the ground to appease the evil gods dwelling under the earth. 
And as we walked the streets of the small town we'd see groups of women sitting down on the floor and chatting, the entire time their hands would be unconsciously weaving strips of bamboo in and out to form the offering vessels.
Some of the tourism literature bills Ubud as a place to get back to the simple life, to 'take strolls through lush green rice paddies as the sun sets behind the hills', Or some bullshit like that. Maybe that would be appealing if I lived in a highrise above a city of millions. But as it is, I live in rural Japan and I have more rice paddies than I know what to do with, so that selling point was moot.
But compared to where we were in Java, the quality of life in Ubud is a lot higher, seemingly both for the locals and the tourists.
We settled into our bungalow (which was adorned with a lavishly carved wooden door painted bright red with the relief woodwork stenciled in gold paint) and immediately went to the convenience shop to procure several liters of Bintang Beer, a flask of cheap rum, several packets of cigarettes, mango juice in a box, a pirated DVD, two cups of instant noodles and a brick of coffee. These provisions would provide any nourishment we would need inside the bungalow for the rest of the day.
The ability to buy hard alcohol and cold beer was a creature comfort not readily found on Java, nor perhaps the greater whole of Indonesia. As such, we loaded up on The Provisions on Bali, where the Hindu culture is much more tolerant of alcohol (and, in effect, more tolerant of the leagues of belligerent and drunk westerners that stumble on to the island with wallets open and livers empty every holiday season).
If we were more forward thinking, we would have bought a surplus of the hard stuff, because once we left Bali for the less often traveled Lombok, anything other than beer came at premium price.
Despite the bad wrap that Bali gets from the sort of travelers who avoid going anywhere with their families, it turned out to be the biggest surprise of the trip in terms of the goodtimes:
We took a Balinese cooking class on Christmas Day.
We wandered into a forest of monkeys and I wound up being preened by a cheeky macaque who climbed my shoulders.
I drank too much rum and passed out at a performance of traditional Balinese dance. (According to Marasco, the orchestra banging away on what were essentially Indonesian marimbas spent much of their energy laughing at me as I failed to snap out of the quintessential head-bobbing sleep one falls into while sitting upright.)
I bought hand carved wooden ashtray in the shape of a gigantic cock. This, for obvious reasons, was given to my friend Pete upon returning to Iwaki.
(PHOTO UNAVAILABLE)
We meandered through markets and saw some incredible crafts.
Bali was actually pretty good, and in spite of the bad reviews friends reported, I cannot agree with them, and I would recommend checking the place out if you're ever in the area.
(well, Ubud was the only part of the island we saw, to be fair. It's very well possible the parts we didn't see are indeed shit.)
By the time we repacked out bags and set off for Lombok we were half way finished with our sojourn.
We had thought we saved the best for last, but in that last week we wound up face to face with more fraudulence and corruption than you'd find a conference of American bankers and CEOs.
Sea Walker in Bali. Let's Try.........!!!
