Seminyak

A red flag means a rip is running, so do not swim. The sand is black with volcanic grit and runs a long way. The sun sets straight ahead, and by evening the sand is covered with people.

It sits where the lane drops to the beach, so people carrying surfboards and people carrying offerings pass the same gate. The name comes from words for a chest with a spirit in it. The temple festival returns every 210 days and the lane shuts.

The name is simply the street number of the club that used to stand here. As the light drops, bean bags go out in rows on the sand and a pickup football game starts in front of them. In July and August big kites fill the sky.

The temple sits on a rock offshore, so you can only walk over while the tide is out. When the tide comes in, the cliff on the land side is the only place to look from. Erosion nearly took the rock; much was rebuilt in concrete. Only Balinese Hindus go up.

The wave breaks over reef rather than sand, which rules it out for a first lesson. At low water the rock comes up and bare feet do not last long on it. Seats on the low cliff fill first as sunset approaches.

A wall carved with the names of the 202 people killed in the 2002 bombing, grouped by country. It stands halfway along Jalan Legian, wedged between bar signs, and flowers are left there at night as well.

A farm track between paddies became a restaurant strip without ever getting wider than two cars. There is no pavement, so walking means brushing shoulders with scooters. On some evenings traffic is let through one way only.

Trading opens at four, before dawn, and by the time morning ends half the sellers have gone. Downstairs is offering flowers, fruit and fish; upstairs is clothes. There is a tourist price and a local price, so ask before you buy.

A fenced patch of sand on Kuta beach holds eggs brought in from elsewhere until they hatch. The releases happen in the afternoon and no charge is made, though you need one of the tokens handed out beforehand.

Patches of paddy survive between the villas, crossed by a strip of concrete path. It runs about one scooter wide, so meeting someone means one of you steps onto the bund. Plots keep being sold and built on, and the walkable stretch gets shorter each year.

A small temple perches on a boulder where the sand runs out, and the gentle waves before it draw beginner longboarders. Board rental and lesson stalls line the beach. At sundown the car park fills fast, which is why scooters are the usual way in.

Black sand on Canggu's southern edge, with a few beach clubs built right onto the sand. The waves roll in evenly, so mornings belong to surfers and swimmers mix in later. The lane down to the beach is narrow and jams most afternoons.

The next village beach along, reached by walking west on the sand from Echo Beach. There are fewer businesses than in Canggu, so even the evening sand stays uncrowded. The current is strong; people come to surf and stroll rather than swim.

The stretch linking Kuta Beach and Seminyak Beach, so the sand never breaks. An hour or so along the waterline takes you through both areas, and lifeguards ask swimmers to stay between the red-and-yellow flags. Surf schools cluster on the road behind.

A royal temple built by the Mengwi kingdom in 1634, ringed by a moat. Since 2012 it has been on UNESCO's list within Bali's subak (paddy irrigation) landscape. The inner court is seen only from a path outside the wall, with tiered meru towers above it.

On Puputan Square's eastern flank in Denpasar, reopened in 1932 after an earthquake brought it down. Its pavilions follow palace and temple styles, splitting the collection into ritual cloth, masks and weapons. Few travellers turn up, so midday is quiet.

A temple built in 1953 around a white coral lotus throne for the supreme god of Balinese Hinduism. It was built by the government, so non-Hindus may enter, borrowing a sarong at the gate. On full-moon and dark-moon evenings the court fills with worshippers.

The square remembers 1906, when the Badung court walked out in front of Dutch troops and chose death together. At the crossroads on its northwest corner stands the four-faced Catur Muka statue. Evenings bring out families and snack carts.

A 45m monument in the middle of Renon's park, opened in 2003. Dioramas of Balinese history line the walls inside, and a winding staircase leads up to a viewing floor. Weekend mornings the park around it fills with runners.

Denpasar's largest traditional market, rebuilt in a new building after a fire in 2016. Produce and seafood take the lowest level, with spices and then crafts further up. Kumbasari market across the river sells cloth and souvenirs, and both are liveliest early.

An old Denpasar temple whose origins go back to around the 14th century, built in red brick in the Majapahit style. Among newer plastered temples its brick gates and walls stand bare. It hides in a city lane, and almost no tourists find it.

Denpasar's east coast, where an offshore reef tames the waves and leaves the water calm. Paving runs beside the sand for several kilometres, good for a rented bicycle. The beach faces sunrise, so unlike Seminyak its best hour is early morning.

By day Kreneng is an ordinary Denpasar market; after dark the food stalls take over. Satay, bakso and fried rice are eaten off plastic stools. Locals far outnumber travellers, and prices sit well below the beach strip.