I was at the moment when I normally turn my phone off from airplane mode when my plane was ready to take a taxi and the captain continued to crack the reliable debriefing on the speakers. A large number of WhatsApp messages, emails, and unnecessary news updates will immediately start to flood, making my attention come out. But this is not this time – I was on a very special occasion in Bali, and I had a much-needed digital detox on myself in the process. Airplane mode is continuing.
Half an hour later, from my hotel's perch in the pool, I clearly saw the Bali Airport across the bay. A huge Emirates aircraft ran hard in the sky and lined up for the final speed, with its large tires blowing to the runway with a smog of smoke. Strangely, in just three days, the landing and takeoff conveyor belt will stop. The airport will be closed, the streets will be empty, and the entire island will be completely silent about Nyepi (Silent Bali Day).
As an Indonesian, I am no stranger to daily noise pollution, which is a serious environmental health problem all over the world. Research shows that noise pollution can lead to a variety of health conditions, including high blood pressure, hearing loss, sleep disorders, and psychological problems associated with stress, anxiety, and depression. This may help explain why calmness is one of the travel trends in 2025 – a holiday should alleviate all of these things. This means slowing down, breaking and relaxing in relative peace and tranquility. More and more people head to quiet places (such as quiet villages, secluded beach escapes, and even huts in the woods), where you can escape the noise of daily life.
So here, I relax in the four season resort of Jimbaran Bay, one of 147 private pool villas facing the glittering sea. Built in the style of a Balinese house, I am in my own small yard with traditionally carved wooden doors at the entrance. “In Bali, the doors are always small,” my off-road driver advised him to drive toward the villa. “Thus, the demons cannot enter.”
Floor-to-ceiling glass doors are filled with sunshine and sea breeze flooding the villa. The spacious bathroom is equally bright and comes with a freestanding bathtub and outdoor shower. Outside, the sofa under the poolside gaze tempted me to curl a book, but when I technically talked about the news trip I worked here, I made an appointment at the Healing Village Spa. This is a difficult life.
I have booked the treatment for Gem Joy, which is the first phase of my voiceover during the digital detox holiday. My phone has been in airplane mode since my takeoff and I have no intention of making changes until I return home. My therapist Thami massaged a series of gem oil with long strokes, massaged garnet, amethyst and crystal rods to the face to release tension and increase the body’s energy. I've never had such a massage before – the only way I can describe the afterglow is joyful. So far I have been a little suspicious of the crystal, but I feel comfortable, relaxed and calm.
Next, in the Illume Room, I took on the celestial light ritual, which took place in Bali’s first surround spa suite that combines colored light therapy with surrounding technology, with large speakers built into all four walls to become part of the treatment, putting you in new, dreamy sizes.
After warming the tub with crystal-fused oil, I made myself comfortable on the heated bed of gravel crystals. My therapist Suasti brought Crystal Singing Bowls to life and made me happy. These bowls resonate when hit or wiped with a mallet, currently rooting you inexplicably. Then I had a full body massage, and the heated crystal massage tool relaxed my muscles. I am now a world away from low-frequency anxiety and I have frequently posted my stable social media use in recent years.
As I entered this short trip to Bali, most of my travelers were busy escaping from one of the most famous tropical islands in the world. Nyepi, known as the day of silence, is only a few days away. It marks the beginning of the Bali New Year – everything on the island (including the airport) is closed for 24 hours. During this time, no one can leave the home, turn on the lights, make noises or cook anything. Balinese people wanted to deceive the evil demons to think that the entire island was deserted and made the residents peaceful for another year. This also applies to tourists who leave the hotel. Depending on the permissions granted by a local priest, the hotel may be allowed to have low levels of light water but still provide food, but has a different range throughout the island.
For many foreign tourists, this is obviously their idea of hell. Heaven forbids us from moving away from multiple screens, and hyperconnectivity to the more mysterious never-ending feed and algorithms used by the therapist this morning. For me, that's the point. Will we not benefit from silence for at least one day every year? I found this sounds fascinating and I can't wait to experience it for the first time.
To commemorate the occasion, I moved to Ubud in the north of Sayan the day before Nyepi. Ubud is a small town in the foothills of Mount Agung, the famous spiritual heart of Bali, and it is right to spend the days of silent here. I looked at the preparations unfolding on my windows – beautiful Balinese women dressed in traditional clothes and pasted the offerings on the heads of the temple while the children celebrated the school closure, parading towards their ogoh-ogoh in the street. Ogoh-ogoh is usually made of bamboo and paper and is a sculpture representing demons and other negative factors. They are all scary – nightmares stuff. After a raucous parade tonight, they will be burned to ashes to indicate the elimination of negative factors.
Taking the pedestrian road through Sayan Resort is an event in itself. The main building was built in 1998 by British Malaysian architect John Heah, a rice bowl. The multi-level space feels like something from a sci-fi movie with expansive views over the lush green botanical garden (with its own rice terrace) that fall to greet the trend of the Ayung River, the longest and most sacred river in Bali.
The sound of water and rainforest soothed me. My one-bedroom villa is surrounded by thick greenery and seems to sigh and breathe, an attractive private pool that absorbs it all. Inside, the decor blends contemporary design with traditional Balinese touch. From hand-woven fabrics and carved teak furniture, every design detail has been carefully crafted.
I found Ibu Fera, a former Buddhist nun, currently an in-house health tutor at the resort, resides in Dharma Shanti Bale, an open-air bamboo structure by the river. I'm here for my nap, where I'm using a silk hammock hanging from the ceiling. The sound of nature and Ibu Fera's gentle rendition of the Buddha's life story, the swaying of the hammock put me to sleep. This was one of my best naps in years and I woke up feeling relaxed when I was there and prepared for my spa treatment.
The recently renovated Holy River Spa is like entering another realm. A trail winds through the lush gardens and greets you with your private care rooms that shoot from both sides. Everyone has Bali or Indonesian names like Rahayu (Safety), Liang (Happiness) and Teja (Fire). My first treatment was the final update, and my therapist Ariasih started with soothing hair and scalp elixirs. After that, I entered the sauna for 15 minutes and then returned to the treatment room for a deep tissue massage where she used years of exquisite expertise to pull and stretch my limbs.
Rejuvenated and rejuvenated, I had time to go back to the top of the main entrance where Ogoh-ogoh Parade marched on the Fever Pitch, walking by on the Fever Pitch before the silence fell. The statues seemed to be alive, and the bloody mummies still floated over our heads, the big, ugly four-armed demon swooped down and picked up all the scattered ones left behind. This is a unique sight.
With Sayan locals celebrating, I settled a seven-course chef's table dinner in Sokasi. This private eight-person bamboo venue serves grilled traditional dishes for traditional Balinese dishes before you. Highlights include ducks in palm leaves slow-cooking underground for twelve hours and suckling pigs spitting on the fire for four hours.
On the mornings of Nyepi I heard nothing but the distant roar of the river below, the gentle breeze passed through the rainforest. Although Bali locals are dedicated throughout the island, I learned that the staff here have been overnight so they can continue working on the grounds of the hotel on this special day. I am grateful for this because I have two exquisite treatments. There is a universal silence in this place, with a gentle smile and nod being used as greetings, not the conversation I used to shake the past few days.
Quietly, to avoid getting the devil's attention, I returned to the spa for a restaurant Bumi treatment involving a chest wearing an old Pis Bolong coin and a cooled jade mask on my eyes. Ariasih massaged me with hot and cold Indonesian moss agate, the stone glided across my skin in a rotating, almost hypnotic pattern. I go back to the same thoughts as I let my mind wander – will we not benefit from that day of silence?
On my island of Lenpok, some small Bali communities faithfully observe the days of silence, but it is often overwhelmed by constant traffic and the commotion of the surrounding cities. Only when I'm here, I really notice how annoying it can be. This is the first time I have observed silence, but I suspect this is not my last one.
My final treatment is overall cheek pull and sculpted face. This is my first facial treatment, but I can already tell that my therapist Nia is an experienced professional. Her clever hands deliberately exercised my face, smoothing any fine lines and encouraging lymphatic drainage. She popped her fingers into my mouth (warned me beforehand), pressed and rubbed my lips and cheeks. It was a strange feeling, but I surrendered, knowing that it would reduce tension and improve muscle tension. Nia was eager to show me the results, and I could hardly believe what I saw in the mirror – my face was completely different. My chin is sharper and my lips are thicker. At this point, I firmly believe that there are very likely magical elements here. After all, we are in Ubud.
The next morning, I was waiting in the cracks at dawn for the road to reopen at 6am on the advice of the receptionist, so my driver could pick me up. Throughout the entire 24 hours of Nyepi, local guards, known as Pecalang, patrol the island up and down to ensure everyone follows strict rules. If they have lights on, look forward to a stern speech. In some cases, foreign tourists are even detained for ignoring the rules.
This seems to be a too common event. I often play videos on Instagram (Western tourists) that are not doing well, or break the latest drama of a poorly running teen on X. Then we have… back to the infinite scroll.
It was known to be a great calm and I found myself fantasizing about the next one. Here, it’s not hard to do a social media detox – you want to let go of the external noise. Actually, when I returned to the airport, I thought I didn't even want to reinstall the various apps I deleted just four days ago. Maybe I will let Nyepi's spirit last longer.
