The Stunning Road to Bali’s Sacred Tanah Lot Temple
Hello, Bali! If you’ve trekked across Java like I just did, you’ll see Bali’s a whole different vibe in Indonesia. Indonesia’s got the world’s biggest Muslim population—86% follow Islam—but 3% are Hindu, and most of that 3% are in Bali. Flip it around: while 86% of Indonesians are Muslim, 86% of Balinese are Hindu. So, from lifestyle to architecture to culture, it’s like stepping into a new land, a fresh vibe when you hit Bali. Hindus here are big on worshiping gods, and one must-visit sacred spot is the Tanah Lot Temple.
Hinduism in Indonesia
Like I mentioned, only about 3% of Indonesians are Hindu, and they’re mostly in Bali. That’s why the culture, customs, and architecture scream Hinduism. Sure, it’s rooted in the same faith, but Bali’s temples don’t vibe like the Hindu stuff in India—where it all started—or even Southeast Asian spots like Wat Phou in Laos or Angkor in Cambodia, shaped by Indian influence. Bali’s Hindu temples have their own style, unique and proud, honed over thousands of years.
Bali’s temple architecture isn’t about flash or size—it’s simple, light, and all about the little details in the decor. The basics, like temple gates and carved bits, stick to tradition: symmetrical tower gates, designs pulling from the Ramayana and Mahabharata epics, plus Hindu gods and critters like Hanuman the monkey, Hamsa the goose, Nandin the bull, Garuda the bird, Kala reliefs, and Rehu the wind god—all etched into fired bricks with crazy precision.
In Bali, I was hooked on the bale-roof towers woven from black palm leaves—kinda like Japanese ninja temples. But a Google search shows zero connection between those black palm roofs and Japan’s ninja vibes.
Bali’s More Than Just Beaches
Morning at my friend’s place, I was blown away experiencing a Balinese Hindu family’s life for the first time. Not much different from Indians in Southeast Asia—Hindus here eat with their hands, adults to kids, so the little ones aren’t exactly spotless. My friend’s family spans three generations in a modest space, so squeezing me in was tricky. Lucky for me, they had a small single bed near my friend’s storage room, cleared out just for me. Everyone was super warm, laughing all day. When they heard I hadn’t eaten, my friend’s siblings grabbed me a pack of sticky rice, worried their home cooking wouldn’t suit me. We’d only just met through a mutual friend, but they welcomed me like family.
My friend was busy—got home late last night, couldn’t pick me up, and had to jet off early today. So, exploring Bali solo was a grind, with my only ride being someone’s random bike from their house. Bali was scorching then, with sudden afternoon rains making biking a nightmare. Still, it didn’t faze me much. First day in Bali, I picked Tanah Lot Temple to visit—closest spot from my friend’s place, about 12 miles (20km) one way, 25 miles (40km) round trip. That night, when I told them I biked to Tanah Lot, everyone was shocked—nobody thought I’d manage that in one afternoon.
That bike ride showed me Bali’s not just beaches. The road from central Bali to Tanah Lot is a constant shift of jaw-dropping scenery. Temples are everywhere—too many to count. Every community’s got multiple, every family’s got one; my friend’s place even has gods in the yard. Each Balinese person’s a temple themselves.
Leaving the city bustle, you hit a rural stretch—golden rice, terraced fields glowing on both sides, towering palm trees standing solo. Felt like I’d wandered into Vietnam’s Northwest, not some world-famous island hotspot. Kept going, no sea in sight.
Tanah Lot Temple in Bali
One of Bali’s seven famous seaside temples, Tanah Lot’s got a killer spot. From any of those seven, you can spot it.
It’s woven into Balinese myth—legend says in 1546, a wise Indian monk rolled through Bali. Struck by the beauty here, he convinced locals to build a temple to spread Hinduism. Since then, Tanah Lot’s been a pilgrimage point for Hindus worldwide.
At first glance, Tanah Lot isn’t grand, but look closer—it’s cleverly perched on a massive rock jutting solo from the sea. High tide? You’ll need a small boat to reach it. Hindu devotees time low tide to walk across rocky paths from shore to offer prayers.
Indonesian tourism’s a mess with tickets, and Tanah Lot’s no exception. Tickets are sold all along the road to the gate. Like before, I confidently biked deep in, dodging the ticket hawkers. Locals get in free, foreigners pay—but it was late afternoon when I got there, ticket checks were lax, so I strolled in like a local.
I said Tanah Lot’s one of seven seaside gems—it’s really part of the Pura Tanah Lot coastal stretch. They named the whole area after the star temple. So, it’s not just Tanah Lot—you’ll spot tons of other temples, all with views of the main one. Time was tight, clouds were rolling in, so I didn’t dig deeper. Mostly came to see Tanah Lot and feel Bali’s roads by bike.