Ikigai
A small book about finding a reason to get up in the morning. Easy to read, and it stayed with me longer than I expected.
Read journal →Uluwatu Sunset Surfing
I surfed here in 2016 and came back in 2025 without a board. Uluwatu still felt exactly the same.
Some places stay with a man long after he has left them. For me, that place is Uluwatu. It sits at the very southern tip of Bali, where limestone cliffs fall straight into the Indian Ocean and an old temple has kept watch from the edge for longer than anyone can remember. I have lived in Germany for many years now. And still, whenever I go back to Bali, this is where I find myself drifting.
Uluwatu surf break, Bali
2016: Surfing into the Sunset
Uluwatu really got me for the first time in 2016. I spent most of my days in the water back then, and just getting out there felt like a little adventure every time. There's a long set of steps down the cliff, then a narrow cave in the rocks that opens straight onto the beach. From there I'd walk out over the reef with my board, wait for a gap between the waves and start paddling. It's a long paddle out to where the waves break, and by the time I got there my arms were already tired. But sitting up on my board and looking back at the cliffs, it always felt like I'd made it somewhere special.
The evenings were my favourite part. I'd stay out on my board as long as I could and just wait for the sunset. The sky slowly turned orange, then pink, and the cliffs behind me started to glow. The waves kept rolling in, one set after another, and every now and then I'd catch one more before it got too dark. Nobody talked much out there at that time of day. Everyone just seemed to be soaking up the same moment. Honestly, it was one of the most magical feelings I've ever had, and I never wanted those evenings to end.
2025: Same Place, Different Way
Time has a way of changing what we do, if not who we are. My sport has changed since then, and I no longer surf at Uluwatu. When I returned in 2025, I watched the sunset from a café on the cliff instead, looking down at the surfers chasing the last waves of the day, just as I once did.
And here is the curious thing. The feeling had not changed at all. The light was the same. The sound of the ocean was the same. The slow way the whole place settles as the sun goes down was exactly as I remembered it. I did not need to be in the water to feel it.
Life is funny like that. In 2016 I was out in the water, and in 2025 I was sitting up on the cliff with a coffee, watching the same sunset. A lot has changed in between, but Uluwatu still gave me exactly the same thing: a few hours where nothing else really mattered. I have a feeling that every time I land in Bali, I'll end up there again.
