BALI BELLY: The legend is real

This is a story about how I went to Bali just to see what their toilet paper is like.

I learned that sometimes… there isn’t any. 

I was warned about “Bali Belly” by one of my sweet Italian friends. She made it sound like a rite of passage. I, being the world traveler that I am, was no stranger to toilet-bound experiences, so I shrugged it off. But I was dead wrong. 

Bali Belly is just as bad, if not worse, than Montezuma’s Revenge and the Peruvian Devil. It’s evil. It’s mean and it will dehydrate you. Grab some electrolytes and gather around my digital campfire. It’s time for a good laugh. 

We ventured to Bali in mid-February of 2023, after already exploring Thailand and Malaysia. Bali was our last stop on the Asia tour and we were to rest and laze in a luxury 5-star villa on the northern part of the island, called Pemuteran (A tiny village about 6 or 7 hours by car from the airport).

But after a gnarly drive through the Balinese jungle and learning that the “luxury” villa was… well… a mud hut, I decided to retreat to Ubud where I would finally get some R&R. 

I checked into the Blue Karma Dijiwa Ubud where I discovered a stunning, boutique, eco-resort situated right beside a small rice terrace. Each hotel room was a private tree house with earthy wooden floors,  5-star bedding, walk-in bathrooms, and private balconies. 

Blue Karma boasts a “botanist restaurant” with everything made locally and organically. Mango, cashew, and turmeric smoothies, Thai banana flower salad, Balinese Pepes Ikan, botanist moringa quiche, stuff you’ve never heard of and will soon dream of. 

After slurping my smoothie and smashing whatever coconut-flavored divinity I had on my plate, I passed out hard in my isolated, wooden cabin. The pitter-patter of the jungle rain. The soft murmur of the air conditioner. A symphony of jungle creatures humming and buzzing. I drifted off into a jungle dream land. 

Good morning Ubud!

I woke up in a mood for adventure after a decadent night of rest. For the next three days, I would experience waterfalls, cafes, side-road coconut stands and jungle humidity straight out of Satan’s butt cheeks. Ubud was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and I was getting hungry. Again. 

Accompanied by my laptop like a good little digital nomad, I enjoyed a surreal sunset dinner  and work session back at Blue Karma. My peace was rudely interrupted by the loud gurgling noises of my stomach, halfway into my meal. 

*ggrrrrrrrrrrpppppp** *gggeeeeerrrruuuuupppppp******* 

Sweat started pouring down my back. That bronze complexion of mine started fading into green. A ball started forming in my throat. “Oh god….” I backed away from the dining table and shuffled my ass as quickly as I could back to my hotel room.  “Oh god…it’s over… It’s so over”… I mumble as I barge into my room and hurry to the bathroom to start vomiting, violently. 

Now, here’s the thing about being an experienced traveler in a situation like this. 50% of my brain is totally chill and even laughing at myself. Thinking thoughts like: “Well, this is probably the 12th time we’ve dealt with food poisoning so just… let it go.” While the other 50% of my brain is like: “I’ve seen the world, I’ve done a lot, I’ve lived a good life. This is goodbye”. 

In between hurling and thoughts about drafting my will on toilet paper, I desperately racked my brain, trying to figure out what I ate to get me here. Maybe it was those chicken tacos I smashed in town center? OMG, it’s that curbside coconut water. I should have never trusted that sketchy teenager. Actually,  it’s FOR SURE that salad I ate at the first villa. Pretty sure those salad leaves were washed in fish pond water. One thing I knew was that it had nothing to do with the food at Blue Karma. Their ingredients are without a doubt, Bali Belly safe. 

“Beware of Bali Belly” – my sweet Italian friend’s voice starts to repeat in my head. “Everyone gets it. You can’t avoid it. It will pass in 24 hours”. Ok then. Tomorrow it will go away. 

But it didn’t. 

DAY 2 OF BALI BELLY: 

“Tomorrow” was spent laying on the cold bathroom floor and calling the front desk for endless rolls of toilet paper. “Please, can you send me a few rolls and not just one”? I begged. “Absolutely ma’am. I will send someone over right now”. 

Knock Knock! 

I peel myself off the floor in a dizzy haze to open the door, excited to receive my mountain of TP. Instead? I was presented with a silver platter of just One. Fucking. Roll. Of. Toilet. Paper.

What is with Bali and toilet paper? Is there a shortage? Do they get it shipped in from communist North Korea and have to pay a tariff per roll? Not only was this only one roll of toilet paper for my sad bum bum, but it was a small, thin, single-sheet roll of toilet paper, more suitable for shredding up and using in a hamster cage. 

Have you seen this butt? I am no hamster. 

“Thank you, but… I am going to need more… I’m really sick…” I say to the kind waiter as his expression changes to worry. “Oh no! Is it your tummy? It happens a lot here.” 

YEAH. BALI BELLY. SO I’VE HEARD! 

“Yes, I have it bad. Please send more,” I beg as he scurries off to fetch me more hamster sheets. 

DAY 3 OF BALI BELLY: 

Try munching on saltine crackers. Bug the front desk for more “special tummy juice” that they now hand-feed me with. Take nap number 4. Drown in reruns of Baywatch on YouTube. 

DAY 4 OF BALI BELLY: 

3 fevers, 26 rolls of hamster-grade toilet paper, and one burning A-hole later, I was officially on day 4 of Bali Belly. I haven’t eaten solid food in 4 days and my fever dreams were becoming more and more wild. Tarzan kept coming in and out of my room and he looked GOOD. That’s when I knew it was time to call a doctor. 

After running some tests, I got the results in less than 12 hours. Turns out, I had contracted parasites! This was Bali Belly on steroids and apparently, the whole island was suffering. The doctor prescribed me some aggressive antibiotics, anti-nausea meds, fever meds, and some other funky foreign pills that I willingly threw down. Anything to take me out of my Ubud suffering. 

On day 5, I felt exceptionally better. Not just because of the much-needed medicine, but because the staff at Blue Karma did everything in their power to bring me back to life. Including waiting on me hand and foot and bringing me house-made juices, snacks, and traditional medicines. Not only was this hotel an absolute treasure when I was feeling well, they were my heroes when I was down for the count. They even brought in an emergency doctor so I wouldn’t have to take a nauseating ride into town center. 

Going to Bali? Here’s my advice. You’re bound to get Bali Belly just like everybody else. Don’t fight it. Also, do yourself a favor and stay at the Blue Karma Dijiwa in Ubud. The rice terrace pool, the botanist restaurant, the tree house cabins, and unmatched, five-star service will be one of the highlights of your trip. 

Enjoy the beauty of Bali with every sense in your body and if you do get sick, hey. Welcome to the club! 

Love always, 

Your digital nomad. 

Sally (Saliet) Golan.