21/02/2026
Holiday. Chinese New Year. The roads heading west are unusually quiet. Good, because I don’t particularly enjoy the first 80 kilometres on the main road to Gilimanuk.
My first stop is just west of Medewi. Pelabuhan Perikanan, a small fishing harbour with colourfully decorated boats. The kind you normally associate with Java, and in Bali you only see them here. Many of the crews come from Java, and that’s exactly how the area feels. Small, bright houses between rice fields, mosques in almost every village. For a moment, it feels like I’m already on Java.
From there I follow smaller roads, first along the coast, then back through wide rice fields. Later I turn north into the hills toward West Bali National Park. The landscape changes, and so do the villages. Temples and decorated entrances reappear, the road gets narrower, the jungle thicker.
Palasari is home to what is probably the oldest church in Bali, built in 1955. Larger than I expected, with towers whose spires are covered in ijuk (fibres from the sugar palm). A combination you wouldn’t expect to find here.
In the afternoon the route takes me higher into the hills toward Sungai Gelar. A rust-red suspension bridge stretches across a clear river, a large banyan tree giving shade. A few locals are bathing. Otherwise, it’s quiet.
Jembrana surprised me. Along the coast it sometimes feels like Java; in the hills it feels fully Balinese again. Less visited, less busy, full of contrasts.
One day here is too short. I’ll be back.
