Accommodation, Asia, Experience, Indonesia, Travel

HOTEL REVIEW | Alila Seminyak

Lemongrass. Its soft, citrusy smell lingered in the air as I aimlessly sauntered into the colossal foyer of Alila Seminyak in Bali. A tunnel of refreshing breeze from the oceanfront met my arrival— an architectural genius made possible by epic use of high ceilings, open-plan design and cross ventilation.

A couple of ladies garbed in colours of the beach, rushed to my side bearing trays: one with cool drinks, and the other with damp towelettes. I dug both at once; potent antidotes against the unforgiving Bali sun. On the table was also a tray of more artillery : after-sun spray, insect repellant, hand lotion and face mist.

“This is like a welcome spa,” I exclaimed, touched at how attuned and sensitive Alila was to the needs of their guests.

Hotel Review - Alila Seminyak 34
The lobby design of Alila Seminyak taps on the tenets of simplicity and symmetry.

The Penthouse

Whilst waiting for my room, the staff at the hotel very hospitably offered a tour to the penthouse. Bad idea. Because after seeing the penthouse—after being in one for the first time ever— I almost didn’t want to be anywhere else anymore.

Imagine waking up in a king-sized bed in a room with views of the Indian Ocean; where the worst of your woes is you cannot make up your mind whether to enjoy a relaxing bath in a fancy tub or take a dip in a private infinity pool.

Boasting three suites, living and dining areas, and a sundeck, it has all the makings of a truly luxurious and very private retreat in the city centre. What with the Potato Head Beach Club only a stone’s throw away, the penthouse is definitely a cocoon right smack in Bali’s party hotspot.

My Garden Suite

Hotel Review - Alila Seminyak 10
So indulgent I stayed in and turned down a party invitation that night.

Shortly after, I got given the swipe card to my room— a garden deluxe suite, just a level up from the main foyer.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have afforded something that grand. But in the same way, I also understood why an Alila staycation is worth the splurge.

When I opened my room, I gaped at the surprise. It looked just like the rooms in the penthouse; a chunk off, really.

Panels of solid wood  cut through the room flawlessly, acting as a partition between the main bedroom and the ensuite. Along the corridor, separating the toilet and bath, ran a bench and a mirror backsplash; just the perfect space for the multitude of cosmetics as I was cramming to prepare for the sunset party that the hotel has prepared for Trip of Wonders.

Sunset Cocktail and Farewell Dinner

I’ve been to Bali twice before. But I do not remember basking in twilight as elaborate as it was that afternoon in the Beach Terrace. Perhaps, it was emotions. It was the conclusion of a fortnight’s worth of adventure with fellow travel influencers from all over Southeast Asia. When strangers become friends, goodbyes become a bit difficult.

So we drank the sadness away, and Alila had the perfect signature cocktail for that: Spicy Cha Margarita.

Spicy Cha Magarita Recipe
Don Julio Reposado
Passion Fruit Puree
Agave Nectar
Lime Juice
Red Chilli
Sweet Togarashi Salt

After sunset, we proceeded to a function room inside the main building for dinner. There, we were regaled with an array of delectable dishes— the perfect accompaniment to a night of celebration.

But even with an enjoyable dinner and a brief after-party, my mind was in a perpetual anticipation of the pleasurable night’s sleep that awaited me. What with the extravagance of my deluxe suite, I could hardly wait.

Morning Swim

Early the next day and well before breakfast, I went to one of the three infinity pools of the hotel for a quick morning dip. The walkway leading to the pool were lined with smooth stones on either side. Likewise, leafy vines crawled along the wooden walls lining the corridors. I was still in the building, but it felt like I’ve gone outdoors.

Perhaps, that was the intent of the Alila brand: to bring in the best of nature and meld it with the comforts of modern living. 

I walked along the edge of the pool, watching the angry waves of the Indian Ocean lap against the expanse of the world-renowned Seminyak beach.

When I was done swimming, I lay on one of the beach beds, parched. As if on cue, the pool attendant offered a bottled water and a towel. He also brought in a basket of goodies: sunscreen, face mist, and an after-sun spray, amongst others.

“Breakfast is downstairs, Miss.” he volunteered, guessing that I must be starving, too.

“Don’t worry, that’s exactly where I’m heading next.” I said, ever impressed at how attentive and outstanding customer service was at Alila Seminyak.

Buffet Breakfast

Hotel Review - Alila Seminyak 14
The Big Breakfast Flatlay

Breakfast was world-class. Featuring both indoor and al fresco sitting options, with communal tables to boot, Alila dining aimed to please.

And it did. I devoured platefuls of bacon, the default Times New Roman of all breakfast dishes, bold and italic.

The buffet was traveling in itself: overflowing with the best selection of dishes from homey East to sophisticated West. There was always something that catered to everyone’s palate. And perhaps, that was exactly the point of Alila’s brand of hospitality:

To have a place in the sun for everyone. 

Hotel Review - Alila Seminyak 20
Walking along the length of the infinity pool before the Indian Ocean

Alila Seminyak – Bali
Jalan Taman Ganesha No. 9
Petitenget, Kerobokan
Bali, Indonesia
P: +62 361 3021 888

To book a discounted stay, click here.


Alila Seminyak hosted the Bali leg of Trip of Wonders – ASEAN Batch 2, an invitational trip for travel influencers, as sponsored by Ministry of Tourism – Indonesia. Opinions expressed in this post are my own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Ministry.

Asia, Indonesia, Travel

Trip of Wonders | Labuan Bajo

Labuan Bajo wasn’t part of the original itinerary for Trip of Wonders. But a volcanic activity in the west of the archipelago necessitated some last minute changes in the schedule. Hence, the happenstance to Flores’ tourism epicentre.

Maktub; the Arabs has a term for things that are fated. Serendipity; the English has, too.

When the plane landed in Komodo Airport, a knowing feeling— as if the island always knew I’d be there— stirred inside me. If only to feel the earth under my soles, I was tempted to walk barefoot. Glad to be where I was, I wanted to show gratitude that way.

flores indonesia

But I got up at 3AM that day, having to fly back to Bali from Lombok, before catching another flight to Komodo. Being too sapped out of energy to think poetry, I didn’t walk barefoot. But I was thankful still, albeit in silence.

I ran the shower a little longer that afternoon. It almost didn’t matter that I was in an oceanfront hotel and my room had a boulder for a view. My priority then was to stay awake long enough for the promised sunset on the trip’s guide book.

Paradise Bar

Perched atop a hill, a bit away from the chaos of the town centre, was a shack-cum-bar aptly named Paradise.

At once, I rushed to the invitation of the open deck, boasting panoramic views of the Labuan Bajo coastline and the calm waters of Sumba Strait.

“Front row seats,” I announced whilst grabbing a chair to sit beside Indra, one of my new-found friends.

“HiSo!” he teased, meaning High Society, a moniker we’ve adapted during the trip to denote special privileges.

paradise bar labuan bajo

It was too early to party, so we settled with mocktails. However, judging from the makeshift stage on one corner, and a wooden bar on the other, I was certain what chill a place Paradise Bar is at night.

“Sons of the sea under a star-studded tropical sky, darn.” I mused, just as the yolk of the dying sun sank into the flaming horizon.

Whilst everyone else was on their cameras, I put mine down and sat back. “There is no way still photographs could capture this drama,” I mumbled. I then went back to my drink, savoured the fortune of just being there, and sang along with the soundtrack in my head:

“My youth, my youth is yours!”

Labuan Bajo LOB

The next couple of days passed in a blur as our jaunt was nearing its end. In speed boats, we hopped from one shore to another and explored some of the least frequented but most must-go-to parts of the Lesser Sunda Islands.

In between sunscreen spray retouches, I stood on the hull of the boat like a she-hero in a quest for lands to conquer.

Komodo Island

In factions, we swept the woods of Komodo and came face-to-face with the last of the dragons. Perhaps, also of the dinosaurs.

The book nerd in me kicked in. My name was Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons. With a wardrobe ensemble pre-rehearsed the night prior, I completed the look with a wooden staff, borrowed from one of the park rangers.

komodo island

By virtue of semi-matching outfits, Marcos, who was garbed in a multi-colored cape from the weavers of Sasak Sade, became an instant ally

“Travellers are the real fashion bloggers,” I declared, and we guffawed at our shared hilarity.

Pink Beach

My first memory of Pink Beach wasn’t its salmon-coloured sand. Right after disembarking from the boat, someone I had a short chat with back in Komodo Island, asked if we could climb the headland together.

Because I disintegrate at the sight of tall, lanky Southeast Asian Chinese men, I reflexively responded with an excuse that really, meant No— much to the chagrin of my gay friend, Lloyd, who was crushing on Jakarta boy, too.

For the rest of the afternoon, I steered clear of the headland and settled with Woman Versus Wild snaps in the vast mousy field beyond the beach.

pink beach

Kanawa Island

As a popular stop for divers and manta ray spotters, there were more amenities in Kanawa than most of the other islands. Drinks were sold too, albeit a bit overpriced.

There , the sea proved irresistible. Starfishes scattered across sand beds and baby sharks swam through calf-deep waters. Upon seeing the first baby shark, I jumped at once. Thankfully, it seemed uninterested and swam on to the foot bridge before the setting sun.

kanawa island

Padar Island

Nothing prepared me for the sheer awesomeness of Padar. It was the perfect backdrop for everyone’s perfect moment— NatGeo moment for explorers, Wallpaper moment for fashionistas, this-trek-is-so-tiring-imma-eat-afterwards moment for foodies. I was all three.

On one hand, I couldn’t wait to tell the planet about the magic at the summit. On the other, I wanted to keep the place a secret, if only to shield it from commercial exploitation.

I ended up sharing anyway. I am a teller of travel stories, after all.

Padar Island

Rinca Island

An array of mangroves forming a barrier around Loh Buaya was Rinca’s most recognisable landmark. Unlike the other islands we’ve been to, Rinca had no beach. Or at least, I didn’t see one where we were.

A stone arch featuring a giant ora on either side was erected near the dock. From there, we had to walk across a barren field— an area reached by water at high tide, I was certain— to the base camp.

A short trek further into the island led us to sightings of more Komodo dragons, perennially patient but ever poised to slay.

rinca island

Kelor Island

Kelor was a subtle ending to a series of awe-inspiring discoveries. Its underwater wasn’t as colourful as Kanawa’s. Its sand wasn’t as fine as Pink Beach. But Kelor’s secret weapon was the undeniable charm of its twin island, Kukusan, acting as a photogenic backdrop.

There, I climbed on trees, like a warrior surveying distant lands for prey.  I only saw beauty everywhere. 

kelor island


Labuan Bajo PostScript


Labuan Bajo was the last stop in September 2016’s Trip of Wonders, an invitational trip for ASEAN travel influencers. It was hosted by the Ministry of Tourism of Indonesia. Opinions expressed in this post are my own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Ministry.

Asia, Indonesia, Travel

Trip of Wonders | Lombok

Once, in a forest made of moss and morning dew, I found a boy who carried with him grand stories of the mountain, Rinjani. He spoke of days scaling the volcano; scorching under the sun but freezing below the moon. I listened intently, pocketing imageries of the island from the adventures of a stranger. I listened, even to the replays of our conversation in my head, over and over, until the imageries became mine.

Fernweh, as the Germans call the ache for places one has never been to. That was how Lombok was to my muse — like how it was Santorini last year; and Pondicherry the year prior.

But the multiverse conspired and I found myself seated by the window on a plane to Lombok one Tuesday.

Lombok - Words and Wanderlust - Mataram
A gush of arid breeze heralded my arrival, and as if on cue, my eyes found Rinjani peeking through clouds from a distance. I beamed at the thought of finally setting foot in the island, whilst rushing through the tarmac and to the waiting bus.

“At long last” I whispered to myself, bracing for a heap of brooding on the bus ride to lunch.


The Mataram in my head wasn’t as expansive as it was in reality, but it was just as unperturbed as I imagined it to be. Its streets bore semblances of an aged countryside with specks of a growing metropolis. Signs of modernity splattered in clusters, amidst vast farming fields and close-knit villages. Whilst the outskirts of the the main town featured locals going about the daily grind, Kuta was filled to the brim with Caucasian travellers.

When the bus pulled over at the teeming thoroughfare of Kuta, my group was led to a small cafe that was distinctively Mediterranean— a pop of colour in an otherwise dusty and sepia-toned strip of town.

Lombok - Words and Wanderlust - Larbi

Larbi Ahassad, the Dutch-Moroccan heart and soul behind El Bazar, ushered our famished selves to an inner courtyard with royal blue walls. He wore a shy smile, but with a pair of eyes that sparked with immense pride. When his team walked in with huge platters of well-curated menu items— a fusion of East, West and the MediterraneanLarbi stepped back with childlike amusement. It was as if he was used to seeing his customers go catatonic before a display of his gastronomic specialties.

After days of gorging on mostly deep-fried, sambal-laden Indonesian fare, El Bazar, unarguably, was a pleasant reprieve.

Lombok - Words and Wanderlust - El Bazar


In the afternoon, I went with my group to Dusun Sade, a traditional village inhabited by the indigenous Sasak people. There, where men were farmers and women were weavers, we got the most heart-wrenching welcome of all: belonging.

A group of youngsters stood by the gates to place woven scarves around our necks as we entered. We then gathered around the square, sporting authentic Sasak Sade woven masterpieces. I sat away from the group and beside the neighbourhood kids in front of a store selling handicraft.

As the villagers burst into a series of dance performances, we were transported back in time: to the making of a history of a tribe whose customs were as interesting as the patterns on their sarongs.

Lombok - Words and Wanderlust - Sasak Sade

After the performances, I made my way further in to window-shop. Sasak people were gracious enough to let me take photos of their colourful wares, straw houses, and sometimes, even of themselves.

Fighting back tears, it warmed my heart to see people who were able to keep their joys simple; for giving so much despite having so little. For a while, to give back, I even let them view photos on my camera.

“Rich, lady!” one of the kids who spoke better English than the rest exclaimed, referring to the fancy photographic armaments I was lugging around.

“Study hard,” the words rolled off my tongue like a secret passed from one village kid to another.


Early the next day, our convoy of buses led us to the coast, for a day-long affair with the sea. For a coastal dweller like myself, a week without the beach was already pushing it to the limit. “About time,” I said out loud while excitedly donning on a bright orange swimwear.

Plus, we were going to Gili Trawangan: my single most favourite island in the world.

I’ve been to Gili T once before. It was supposedly just a quick detour from resort-hopping between Seminyak and Candidasa after Christmas. But I ended up staying until well into the new year.

On a swing in a bar aptly named Exile, farthest from the party central, I saw the last sunset of 2015 and the first sunrise of 2016. If that wasn’t special, I don’t know what is.

Gili Trawangan - Words and Wanderlust

After snorkelling, and a quick cruise to Gili Air and Gili Meno, I shared a rather satisfying lunch with friends at Villa Ombak. Soon after, we rushed to Black Penny, my second most frequented watering hole, next to Exile.

The rest of the group cycled around the island, whilst others snorkelled some more. Meanwhile, my friends and I sprawled on bean bags at Black Penny’s, guzzling on ice-cold Bintang, before an immaculate strip of sand.

“What did you do when you were here?” one of my friends asked after my nth rave about the island.

“This,” I answered while fixing my pair of Clubmasters. Proceeding to take the most sophisticated sip from my cocktail, I then added, “exactly this.”

Lombok - Words and Wanderlust - Gili Trawangan


There are two types of destinations: to where viral marketing strategists tell you where to go; and to where the most interesting people you meet on the road have already gone.

Lombok was borne out of the latter— as the setting of a story told by a fellow traveler who liked to hold hands in mossy slopes on rainy Saturdays. Our dynamics was very much like that of Rinjani’s: potentially earth-shattering but muffled in countless of unspeakable ways.

Maybe Lombok was a pick-up line; I’d never know. But I’m a wordsmith; and if there’s anything I am ever good at, it is with words. I never got to say much to those who didn’t quite happen.

But to those that did, with thoughts and longing to those that didn’t, allow me: Lombok, I lava you.

Lombok Accommodation


Lombok was the third stop in September 2016’s Trip of Wonders, an invitational trip for ASEAN travel influencers. It was hosted by the Ministry of Tourism of Indonesia. Opinions expressed in this post are my own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Ministry.

Asia, Indonesia, Travel

Trip of Wonders | Yogyakarta

If names have anything to do with destiny, then Royalty is Yogyakarta’s birthright.

Derived from Javanese words Yogya and Karta, it befits prosperity. The latter, splendidly worn in the fabric of Jogja’s history: from architecture to heritage to cookery.

My welcome to the city came late in the evening, in the form of a jasmine lei and a cup of tea extracted from a native red bark. Shaken from a massive turbulence from the flight out of Bandung and bursting from binging platefuls of Ayam Goreng at dinner, such gesture of hospitality from Royal Ambarrukmo was impeccable.

Even without counting my top-floor room with pool view, the platter of dessert at bedside was more than enough indulgence. Imagine the romance.


My first restful sleep at Royal Ambarrukmo however, was promptly interrupted by a 2AM wake up call. But Borobudur, as I later saw for myself, was one of the few things worth rising up early for. How can it not be when from there, it meant having the pleasure of seeing the morning sun rage against the distant Mt. Merapi?

Yogyakarta - Borobudur Sunrise

I remember racing through the gates of the compound, only to be arrested by the magnificence before me: over 2,500 square-metre huge, multi-level superstructure— perhaps the greatest in all the world’s Buddhist temples.

After the sun has risen, a stroll around left me astonished. Circling the stupas, a sea of clouds blanketed farming fields and villages sprawled low at the foot of outlying mountain ranges. It got me thinking: Borobudur, living up to its legacy, has indeed, proudly withstood tests of time and forces of nature.

By mid-morning, just before an impromptu crash course on batik-making and pottery, I explored the village surrounding Borobudur a little deeper. In a vintage bike, I cycled through rice paddies: partly alongside my friends, but mostly by myself. Introspection was necessary because as a village girl myself, I saw glimpses of home on that morning bicycle ride.

Yogyakarta - Borobudur Cycling

It made sense then. The simplicity of rural Central Java, and the generosity of its people to live and let live, was what enabled the Buddhist Borobudur to last through the millennium amidst a Muslim dominion.


After lunch, a trip down the lanes of Jogja’s opulent yesteryears was held by way of a guided walking tour around Royal Ambarrukmo. I made my way around with the crowd, palming stories stuck beneath age-old murals and symmetrical pillars; all pregnant with rhyme and reason.

As the day came to a close, I perched before a lavish display of local canapés for afternoon tea, peeping through how royals fared through their days. My mortal self could not barely contain the experience’s overwhelming sense of marvel. At that point, my heart knew no other language, but that of Gratitude.

Yogyakarta - Royal Ambarrukmo


Whilst sunrise was incredible, sunset was stellar.

As the crowd swarmed through the gateway of the main terrace, I sprinted to the grounds, away from the gates. When I looked back, the yoke of the sun was just sinking into the horizon, a rich orange against the shadow of Ratu Boko, or remnants of.

How did you know?” A chap from another tour group asked, indicating the angle I was shooting from, farthest from the crowd.

Well, I knew that Ratu Boko was once a palace.” I was awkwardly rolling off the grass, trying to shoot from a low angle.

And?” He pressed.

And kings don’t usually stand by the doors. They marvel at their riches from afar.” I answered, smug, like a true royal.

Right after, like true commoners, we shared a hysterical laugh.

Yogyakarta - Ratu Boko Sunset

On the second morning, I bade goodbye to Yogyakarta with a promise to return. As I made my out of the hallowed halls of Royal Ambarrukmo, I ran my palm along its walls one last time, relearning the stories it cradled: those of religion and royalty; of glory and grandeur.

Yogyakarta - Postscript


Yogyakarta was the second stop in September 2016’s Trip of Wonders, an invitational trip for ASEAN travel influencers. It was hosted by the Ministry of Tourism of Indonesia. Opinions expressed in this post are my own and do not reflect the view of the Ministry.

Asia, Day Trips, Indonesia, Travel

Trip of Wonders | Bandung

Art, Culture and Nature — these comprise the trifecta from which the Indonesian city of Bandung stands firmly on.  My introduction, however, began with food: a hearty lunch of bebek goreng and an overload of sambal, in particular.

Following a 3-hour and 20-minute journey by rail from Jakarta— and after being shown a real-life trailer of West Javanese daily hustle from the train window— it felt I was ready to sit through the whole movie, lunch inclusive.

Nuart Sculpture Park

Nuart Sculpture Park

My first afternoon in the city was spent in the copper and brass wonderland of Nuart Sculpture Park. The compound was littered with installations that demanded space and time. All beckoned not to be merely looked at, but moreso, be looked into.

Women, bare and strong, were showcased intermittently. Along with a multitude of other creations, Nuart’s signature depiction were mostly of Strength amidst Struggle.

Nyoman Nuarta, the Balinese-born, Bandung-educated sociopolitical genius behind Nuart, reeked of inspiration.

“How are you so patient?” I asked him in between selfies, as we were making our way around his smaller installations, after a 3-part film show of his grandest projects.

“When you want something, you wait.” He smiled a smile that was almost cheeky; his eyes deep in introspection, as if in touch with an ever-present hunger to create.

Nyoman Nuarta

Later, an exclusive access to the park’s workshop reinforced my earlier observations. There, metal smiths forged masterpieces from earth, under fire, but before a waterfall. Such display of the marriage of elements was nothing short of impeccable.

That night, I went to sleep beyond impressed. The privilege of walking into Nuart’s doors has also been the reckoning of how beautifully art is made when Protest is done with and by Restraint.

Armor Kopi

Early the next day, I found myself hopping on to a bus, being whisked into the woods. There, nestled amongst pine trees, stood a quirky little cafe aptly named Armor (ARabica Multi ORigin).

Featuring only the freshest coffee beans and tea leaves from the archipelago, Armor Kopi boasted of the best in Manual Brewing. The lads manning the counter also doubled as baristas, preparing concoctions in front of awed customers.

Though a coffee junkie, I already had a generous helping at breakfast that day. Instead, I egged my companions to sample Luwak. Arguably, it is the most expensive and perhaps, the most controversial of coffee varieties.

Armor Kopi

Kopi Luwak is coffee made from beans ingested and defecated by Asian palm civets. As explained by one of the baristas, civet cats eat only the best beans. These beans are further fermented with special stomach enzymes in the digestive tract of civet cats, thus resulting in a less acidic but smoother coffee taste.

I, on the other hand, took advantage of my mortal chance to enjoy a pot of the royally-acclaimed Silver Needle tea. Once served only to China’s Royal Imperial Family, these silver-tipped white tea leaves are harvested only once or twice a year.

Over Pisang Goreng and Rujak Cireng, popular Indonesian delicacies, I savoured my tea whilst my new-found friends raved on their coffee.

Dusun Bambu

Situated on the foothills of Mt. Burangrang, Dusun Bambu stood as a testament for the Indonesians’ regard for family. Built as a retreat for the community to enjoy nature, culture and cuisine, it wasn’t just what I came there for; it was also what I found.

Dusun Bambu

A tower of bamboo manned the entrance like a giant throne fashioned from swords. Further up, there were footbridges that cut across fields, up to a concrete road with bamboo archways. Up in the trees, dedicated dining rooms were cocooned inside what appeared to be huge birds nests.

The principles of Dusun Bambu resonated with me. It was able utilise nature in its architecture and integrate it into modern and practical aesthetics. It also succeeded in harnessing on Bandung’s Sundanese roots whilst transcending beautifully into the present-day Indonesia.

Saung Angklung Udjo

Perhaps, the organisers of our trip knew how to save the best last. I was already a bit knackered when our group was led to a small auditorium, filled to the brim with foreigners and locals alike. But my senses were awakened when the lady manning the till handed the audience necklaces with small angklungs (a bamboo musical instrument) as pendants. On the stage were a group of men playing traditional instruments before an array of puppets.

Bandung Weekend - Angklung Udju

Soon after, we were treated to an entertaining series of cultural performances ranging from puppet shows to dances and songs from and by different Indonesian ethnic groups. My favourite however— and I’d bet, everybody else’s too— was Angklung Interactive, where each guest was given an angklung and we were collectively taught to play songs.

By the time the exercise concluded, I was on my feet, uber energetic to party with the crowd. It dawned on me right there and then, how entertainment strengthens unity and camaraderie amongst communities.

Admittedly, I was a little envious too. The performers of Angklung Udjo ranged from toddlers to septuagenarians— families, neighbours and friends. Outside, first-world factories peppered the city. But in that small auditorium, a culture as rich, as confident and as alive, thrived; and with certainty, will thrive.

Bandung Weekend - Local Designer

Rumah Mode

A visit to Bandung won’t be without shopping. Ours was scheduled on a Sunday before flying out to Jogjakarta. But I was naughty and sneaked out for previews on Saturday night, to some hipster-ish boutiques run by local designers.

It turned out to be a good idea though, since Rumah Mode was packed the next day. I browsed, however, but did not end up buying anything. Instead, I sat with friends in a cafe fronting a small makeshift pond and had Iced Coffee.

Soon after, our other companions came out from the shops in throngs, with multiple shopping bags in tow. Maybe that meant they’ve scored good deals.

As I bade goodbye to the weekend, and to Bandung, I was comforted with pride that the best brands from all over the planet chose the craftsmanship of this small Indonesian city to clothe the rest of the fashion world.


Art, Culture and Nature — these comprise the trifecta from which the Indonesian city of Bandung stands firmly on. On the weekend I was there, those aforementioned elements stood apparent everywhere.

Bandung Where to stay


Bandung was the first stop in September 2016’s Trip of Wonders, an invitational trip for ASEAN travel influencers. It was hosted by the Ministry of Tourism of Indonesia. Opinions expressed in this post are my own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Ministry.