I recently took what I consider my first real solo holiday. It started from Semarang, went to Bali, then Surabaya, then back to Semarang by train. More travel pieces live under Travel.
The plan looked clean on calendar. Flights, hotels, beaches, museums, food stops, buffers. A civilized itinerary. But of course, reality was messier. And honestly, the messy parts were the best parts.
Day 1 — First Flight, First Chaos
This was my first flight from Semarang to Bali. The original idea was simple: land, rent a motorcycle, go to the hotel in Legian, drop some bags, eat, and slowly start exploring.
The first meal was not some famous Balinese restaurant. It was a random nasi jinggo on the road. Meat, rice, sambal, wrapped small, cost 7k rupiah. Perfect. This is the kind of food that makes traveling feel honest.
After dropping my bags at the hotel, I went around Kuta, Legian, Double Six, and Seminyak. The beach area was hot as hell. Not spiritually hot, not poetically hot. Just physically annoying. So I escaped to Beachwalk Mall and chilled at the mosque in the basement.
That became one early lesson of the trip: malls and mosques are underrated survival infrastructure.
I checked in around 2 PM, ate some boiled eggs I had brought from Semarang, then went out again. I checked Pantai Berawa, didn’t even park, just looked at it, then continued to Batu Bolong for sunset.
Canggu was chaotic. Too many foreigners, too much traffic, too much “lifestyle.” I didn’t like it. It felt like a place designed for people trying to look like they are escaping capitalism while paying premium prices to perform freedom.
Dinner was at a warteg near my hotel: egg, vegetables, chicken intestine. 18k. Much better.
Day 2 — Ubud Was Overrated, Kintamani Saved the Day
The plan was Ubud. I rode from Legian to Ubud, parked at Monkey Forest, and immediately felt the vibe was wrong. Too touristy. No local feeling. Expensive. Overrated. So I just sat there, took a photo of the ticket gate, and left.
It sounds like failure, but I think this was one of the better decisions of the trip. Sometimes the win is not forcing yourself to enjoy something just because it is famous.
Then I looked for lunch and went to Warung Gunaksa Betutu. I accidentally bought one whole chicken because they apparently did not serve a single-person portion. Very stupid, very funny, and very travel-like.
Ubud still felt overrated, so I impulsively rode to Kintamani.
That impulse saved the day.
I didn’t go to an expensive cafe. I just stopped around Indomaret and looked at the view. And somehow, that became one of the most beautiful moments of the trip. Mountain, lake, cold air, space. Cheap and majestic.
After that, I chased sunset at Tanah Lot.
Day 2 taught me that the best parts of travel are often not the “must visit” places. Sometimes it is just an Indomaret with a mountain view.
Day 3 — Gunung Payung, Beach Club Alienation, and Uluwatu
I left Ammara Legian around 8 AM and went to Pantai Gunung Payung. This place was a hidden gem. Free, quiet, not crowded. I stayed there until noon, made vlog and essay-style video content, and just enjoyed the space.
This was probably the beach that fit me most. Not because it was the most famous, but because it gave me room to think.
After that, I tried going to Pantai Tanah Barak, but the road was blocked. The route pushed me toward Pandawa Beach, but I was too lazy and skipped it.
Then I went to Melasti Beach and tried entering Tropical Temptation Beach Club. It was my first time going to a beach club. The waitress asked what I wanted to order. I said I just wanted to look around.
It felt alien. Almost no local tourists. Everyone looked foreign. I went to the toilet, and the red lighting made it even weirder. There was a guy changing clothes in front of the mirror with no shame, took off his pants, and I saw more than I wanted to see. Disgusting. I still cannot unsee it.
I sat around the cliff area and saw what looked like a komodo or big iguana. Sadly, I missed the photo.
At 2 PM, I left and had lunch at Nasi Ayam Bu Oki. Then I went to Uluwatu for the Kecak dance. The show was at 7 PM, so I had too much empty time. I got sleepy. This was one of the weaker logistics of the trip. Waiting without a purpose is dangerous when traveling solo.
Still, Uluwatu was worth it. The cliff, the crowd, the sunset, the performance. Very touristy, yes, but at least it had drama.
Day 4 — Museum, Monument, Stomachache
The day started slow. Swimming at the hotel, tea time, then Nasi Tempong Indra.
After that, I went to Museum Bali. It was okay, but not deeply memorable. I sat around the square, just bengong. Then I went to Bajra Sandhi Monument, which was visually more interesting.
Unfortunately, I got a stomachache there. Maybe too much spicy food, heat, fatigue, or all of them combined. So I ended up strolling around a mosque near what I think was the Kemenkeu or Bea Cukai area.
Again: mosque as survival infrastructure.
Later, I had lunch at Warung Mak Beng and went to Sanur Beach. Mak Beng was solid. Sanur was calmer than the west side beaches. Not spectacular, but easier to exist in.
Day 4 felt like a recovery day disguised as sightseeing.
Day 5 — Last Bali Day and the Road to Surabaya
Breakfast was at Warung Babi Guling Pak Malen. Then I bought souvenirs at Agung Oleh-Oleh Bali, visited the Bali Bombing Monument, and went to Pantai Jerman.
It was too hot again, so I went to Discovery Mall. By this point, I had accepted the truth: Bali at noon is not for heroism. It is for shade, AC, and survival.
After that, I went back to the hotel in Legian, had early dinner at Pink Tempong, returned the motorcycle rental, and flew to Surabaya.
From Juanda Airport, I took the DAMRI bus to Terminal Purabaya, then walked to Waru Station to catch the last train to Surabaya Kota. Then I took ride-hailing to Hotel Horison Surabaya.
The hotel was less than 300k, but somehow it felt like luxury to me. Maybe because after several days of heat, motorcycles, sweat, and cheap meals, a clean hotel room felt like civilization.
It was the most expensive hotel I had ever tried, and it was nice.
Day 6 — Surabaya Was Surprisingly My Type
In Surabaya, I had breakfast at Lontong Balap Rajawali, then strolled around Kota Lama. I visited De Javasche Bank, which was one of the most interesting stops for me because it connected with finance, banking, colonial history, and money infrastructure.
This made me realize something: I probably enjoy cities through systems. Ports, banks, old trade districts, markets, stations, government buildings. I like places where history, money, and power leave physical traces.
After checking out, I had early lunch at Nasi Cumi Pasar Atom Ibu Atun, then went to Pasar Turi and did Friday prayer.
And then came one of the funniest accidental moments of the whole trip.
The sermon was about a king who could not fart for months. His stomach became huge, apparently as big as his bed. Then an old healer came and said he could cure the king, but only if the king gave him the kingdom. The king agreed. The healer injected him, and finally the king farted so loudly that the people fainted.
Then the healer refused the kingdom and told the king not to oppress the people, not to raise taxes when people were already suffering, and that his sickness came from being unjust to his people.
The preacher delivered it loudly, basically shouting: “Government, do not be oppressive.”
I almost laughed during the sermon. Not because the message was wrong. The message was actually good. But the story was so absurd. A political sermon through a royal fart parable. 10/10 experience.
After that, I took the train back to Semarang.
What I Learned
The calendar plan was useful, but it was not the soul of the trip. It prevented disaster. It gave structure. It made sure I had food, transport, buffers, and anchors.
But the real memories came from deviation.
Kintamani was not the original plan. Gunung Payung was better than the more famous beaches. The beach club was terrible but memorable. The Surabaya sermon was completely accidental. The random nasi jinggo and warteg meals felt more real than many famous tourist stops.
This trip also taught me what kind of traveler I am.
I do not really like places that are famous just because they are famous. I do not enjoy lifestyle tourism. I do not care much about beach clubs, expensive cafes, or places filled with people performing freedom for Instagram.
I like cheap food, weird stories, historical buildings, financial institutions, old cities, quiet landscapes, and places that give me something to think about.
I like beaches only when they have a mission: sunset, cliffs, solitude, plane spotting, or space to create something. A beach without a mission just becomes hot sand and confusion.
Final Verdict
The trip was not perfect. Some parts were inefficient. Some places were overrated. I got tired, sweaty, sleepy, and had a stomachache. I bought one whole chicken by accident. I saw things in a beach club toilet that I wish I could delete from memory.
But it was real.
It was my first solo holiday that felt like a field report of myself: what I like, what I hate, what makes me feel alive, and what kind of places actually stay in my head.
Bali gave me landscapes and heat.
Surabaya gave me history, food, and a sermon about political justice through a king’s fart.
Somehow, that combination made sense.