Immerse yourself in Bali’s 24-hour stillness and discover the healing power of Nyepi, the Balinese Day of Silence. A digital detox like no other, this ancient tradition offers a chance to reset, relax, and rejuvenate in complete silence.
As my plane prepares to taxi and the captain continues crackling indecipherable debriefs over the speakers, I’m at the point where I’d usually turn my phone off of airplane mode. A deluge of WhatsApp messages, emails, and unwanted news updates would promptly begin flooding through, splintering my attention. But not this time—I’m in Bali for a very special occasion, treating myself to a much-needed digital detox along the way.
A digital detox is a period of time where individuals abstain from using electronic devices such as smartphones, computers, and televisions.
Benefits include reduced stress levels, improved sleep quality, and increased productivity.
Studies show that taking regular breaks from technology can improve mental health and reduce symptoms of anxiety and depression.
Digital detoxes can also help people reconnect with nature and engage in offline activities, leading to a better work-life balance.
Airplane mode is staying on. Half an hour later, from my perch in the pool at my hotel, I have a clear view of Bali’s airport at the opposite end of the bay. A huge Emirates passenger jet banks hard in the sky and lines up for its final approach, its large tires kissing the runway with a puff of smoke. It’s strange to think that in just three days, this conveyor belt of landings and take-offs will grind to a halt.
Located in Indonesia, Bali is an island province known for its stunning natural beauty and rich cultural heritage.
With over 10 million tourists visiting each year, Bali has become a top destination for travelers seeking relaxation, adventure, and 'spiritual growth'.
The island boasts 'pristine beaches', lush green landscapes, and volcanic mountains, making it a haven for outdoor enthusiasts.
From the famous Uluwatu Temple to the vibrant streets of Seminyak, Bali offers a unique blend of tradition and modernity.
The airport will be closed, the streets will be empty, and the entire island will descend into complete silence for Nyepi, the Balinese Day of Silence. As an Indonesian, I’m no stranger to everyday noise pollution, which is a serious environmental health concern in countries all around the world. Studies have shown that noise pollution can lead to various health conditions including high blood pressure, hearing loss, sleep disorders, and psychological issues related to stress, anxiety, and depression.
Prolonged exposure to noise pollution can lead to hearing loss, tinnitus, and cardiovascular disease.
Studies have shown that individuals living in areas with high levels of 'noise pollution' are more likely to experience anxiety, depression, and sleep disorders.
Additionally, noise pollution has been linked to increased blood pressure, heart rate, and stress levels.
The World Health Organization estimates that 1.6 million people worldwide die prematurely each year due to noise-related health problems.
It may help explain why calmcations are one of 2025’s travel trends—a holiday is supposed to offer relief from all of these things. That means slowing down, disconnecting, and relaxing in relative peace and quiet. More and more people are traveling to quiet places (such as tranquil villages, secluded beach escapes, and even cabins in the woods) where you can escape the noise of everyday life.
I’m relaxing at Four Seasons Resort at Jimbaran Bay, in one of the 147 private pool villas facing out towards the glistening sea. Built in the style of a Balinese home, I’m in my own little compound, complete with a traditional carved wooden door at the entrance. “The doors are always small here in Bali,” my buggy driver advised as he pulled up to the villa.
“The demons can’t get in.” Floor-to-ceiling glass doors flood the villa with sunshine and a sea breeze. The spacious bathroom is equally bright, complete with a freestanding tub and outdoor shower amongst a pretty flower-filled garden. Outside, the sofa under the poolside gazebo tempts me to curl up with a book.
I’ve booked the Gemstone Joy treatment—the first stage of what I’m dubbing my digital detox holiday. My phone has been in airplane mode since take-off, and I have no intention of changing that until I return home. Thami, my therapist, massages a range of gemstone oils into my body using long strokes, combining garnets, amethysts, and a crystal wand face massage that releases tension and elevates the body’s energy.
I’ve never had a massage like this before—the only way I can describe the afterglow is joyous. Up to this point, I’ve always been a little skeptical of crystals, but I feel genuinely rejuvenated, at ease, and calm. Next, in the Illume Room, I’m treated to the Celestial Light Ritual, which takes place in Bali’s first surround-sound spa suite.
Combining colorful light therapy and surround-sound technology, where large speakers built into all four walls become part of the treatment, working to immerse you in new, dreamy dimensions. After a warm bath with crystal-infused oils, I make myself comfortable on a heated bed of crushed stones that soothe my skin as they cool.
I find Ibu Fera, a former Buddhist nun who is currently the resort’s in-house wellness mentor, residing in the Dharma Shanti Bale, an open-air bamboo structure right by the river. I’m here for my Sacred Nap, where I’m cocooned in a silk hammock suspended from the ceiling.
The sounds of nature harmonize with Ibu Fera’s gentle rendition of the life story of Buddha, the swaying of the hammock rocking me to sleep. It’s one of the best naps I’ve had in years, and I wake up feeling existentially relaxed and ready for my spa treatment.
The recently refurbished Sacred River Spa feels like entering another realm. A footpath winds through the lush gardens, beckoning you into the private treatment rooms that shoot off either side. Each one has a Balinese or Indonesian name, such as Rahayu (safety), Liang (happiness), and Tedja (fire).
My first treatment is the Ultimate Renewal, where my therapist, Ariasih, starts with a soothing hair and scalp elixir. After this, I slip into the sauna for 15 minutes before heading back into the treatment room for a deep tissue massage.
Refreshed and rejuvenated, I have time to head back to the top of the main entrance, where the ogoh-ogoh parade is marching past at fever pitch—one last outburst of noise and joyous emotion, before the silence descends. The statues seem to come alive, gory mummified remains floating over our heads and large, ugly four-armed demons swooping down to pick up any stragglers left behind.
It’s a sight unlike any other. With the Sayan locals celebrating long into the night, I settle into a seven-course Chef’s Table dinner at Sokasi. This intimate eight-seater bamboo venue serves traditional Balinese dishes grilled right in front of you; highlights include the duck in palm leaves slow-cooked for twelve hours underground and the suckling pig spit-roasted over a fire for four hours.
On the morning of Nyepi, I can hear nothing but the distant roar of the river below, and the gentle breeze passing through the rainforest. Although Balinese locals are dutifully housebound across the island, I learn that the staff here have stayed overnight, so that they can continue working within the hotel grounds for this special day.
I’m grateful for this, because I have two exquisite treatments lined up. There’s a general hush about the place, and gentle smiles and nods are used as greetings, rather than the conversations I’ve been used to striking up the past few days.
Quietly, so as not to alert the attention of the demons, I make my way back down to the spa for the Restu Bumi treatment, which involves wearing a chestpiece of ancient pis bolong coins and a cooling jade mask over my eyes. Ariasih massages me using hot and cold Indonesian moss agate.
As I let my mind wander, I come back to the same thought—wouldn’t we all benefit from this Day of Silence? On my home island of Lombok, a few small Balinese communities faithfully observe the day of silence, but it tends to be drowned out by the thrum of constant traffic and the commotion of the city all around.
It’s only when I’m here that I really notice just how irritating that can be. This is my first time observing the Day of Silence, but I suspect it won’t be my last.
