Untamed BALI

For many Australians, Bali has become synonymous with crowded streets and mass tourism. Yet vast swathes of the island remain wonderfully wild. The western coast, with waves for all levels and authentic village life, tells a different story of Bali.

- Catherine Lawson

This Balinese sunrise is hours old when I hit the sand, pausing on the palm-fringed edge of the sea to watch the rolling waves. Stretched before me, a broad wedge of grey sand tempers the crashing swell and a handful of riders shoot through barrels and peel off to do it all again.

Down the beach in the softer waves, some new-to-surfing girlfriends are practising their moves, riding gentle tumblers to shore on their bellies and knees. I kick off my thongs and take the plunge, ducking and diving and soaking up this unhurried scene – the warmth of the water, the crumbling cliffs that line the beach and an utterly old-school surfer vibe I never knew still existed in Bali.

Denpasar's “hello mister” hustle puts a lot of travellers off Bali and sends them in search of wilder, more remote slices of Indonesian island life. So, while Kuta and I still don't see eye to eye, a mere two-hour drive away, I find myself utterly wooed by Bali's rugged west coast wilderness.

Love it or hate it, there's nothing beige about Bali, and the best of it – the wild beaches, uncrowded waves, authentic cuisine and vibrant village culture – begins at Balian Beach. We've come to Bali – my family and I – in search of all the things that most travellers want from Indonesia, but to incongruously find myself enjoying them in the absence of a crowd.

We are collectively hoping for some chilled, beginner waves to surf, a comfortable villa in a laidback village and the chance to eat, stretch and connect with Balinese life. I scour online booking sites for some place beyond the Denpasar mayhem and, two hours later, tumble out of a Grab car in front of a cluster of villas that stud glistening rice paddies above Balian Beach.