Hotel Review: Anantara Ubud Bali Resort is not your usual jungle hideout

I have come to Ubud looking for spiritual healing. Known for its temples, arts, crafts, and padi fields, the small town in Gianyar Regency promises a verdant getaway from the crowds on Bali’s southern beaches.

To get to Anantara Ubud Bali Resort, which opened at the end of last year, takes a 2.5-hour drive from the airport; more than ample time to recentre myself after the frenetic customs and island heat.

As the traffic eases into narrow streets and eventually into padi fields between clusters of warungs, Ubud comes into view. Once considered an off-the-beaten path for backpackers and yoga retreats, the town has taken on the island’s cultural hotspot, hosting the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival and Ubud Food Festival.

It’s rainy and low season when I arrive; traffic is “not too bad”, my driver assures me.

Anantara Ubud Bali Resort is located higher up in the inland village of Banjar Puhu in Payangan, a 50-minute car ride from the Ubud centre, where privacy and seclusion are part of the appeal. With 85 suites and villas housed in a cascading design, modelled after the surrounding rice terraces, the entire resort is divided into six floors. 

Perched over rice padi fields, the Lobby Lounge looks out towards sweeping views with the peaks of Mount Agung and Mount Batur in the distance as the mist brought on by the afternoon’s shower dissipates.

In the background, melodic chimes and gongs sound at intervals from a robotic Balinese gamelan kinetic sculpture called the Gamelatron, created by American artist Aaron Taylor Kuffner.

It’s here that I’m given the official welcome and blessing — a canang sari (a palm-leaf tray of flowers used as offerings) that’s later placed at the hotel’s temple, bija (rice grains cleansed in water applied to my Anja chakra or third eye between my eyebrows), and tridatu (a red, white and black thread bracelet) is tied around my wrist.

Jungle haven

Anantara Ubud Bali Resort, like the other hotels under the Anantara brand, including those featured in The White Lotus Season Three, specialises in understated luxury. Around the resort, wood, stone, and soft fabrics in neutral tones create a cocoon of calm, bathed in sunlight streaming in from the expansive windows and high ceilings. 

Its villas, with one or two bedrooms, have their own infinity pool, which stretches from the living area to the bedroom. With both sofas and the bed all facing towards the sliding glass doors, it’s evident that the view of the rainforest takes centre stage.

The television hinges back flush with the wall because you’ll want nothing obstructing the serene jungle landscape as the morning sun streams in.

The service is gentle and intuitive. A villa host, essentially a private butler, lets me know she’s here to help over WhatsApp. While reclining by one of the two public heated infinity pools (temperatures here can get a little chilly), hotel staff come around with a complimentary sweet drink and snack.

And when I mention I’m having internet issues with my laptop, the tech team shows up promptly and troubleshoots for 20 minutes, leaving only when the problem is fixed. 

Even during mealtimes at Kirana, the resort’s all-day dining venue, or at the fine-dining restaurant Amerta, the waitstaff stay in the background, allowing me to soak in the calm and silence fully.

Visiting during low season heightens the sense of isolation; apart from the few guests I see around common areas, it feels like I’m the only one here. My first dinner at Kirana is accompanied by a soundtrack of crickets and birds chirping, and not a whisper of civilisation.

Authentic Balinese spirit

A large part of the resort’s charm is how deeply rooted it is in Balinese Hinduism, of which its rituals are a standard part of the locals’ daily lives. Guests are invited to participate in a temple water purification ceremony at Pura Mengening, a local favourite, or attend the evening prayers, both led by local staff.

In fact, 47 per cent of hotel employees come from Banjar Pahu village; a similar protectionist approach is also given to private hire cars in the village, where Grab or Gojek are not allowed. 

Banjar Pahu local and resident naturalist, Putu Yunita, is my guide for the Alas Taro Exploration, a four-hour tour of Taro village, a 20-minute open-air jeep ride away. With nary a tourist in sight, we visit the home of Wayan Krisna, who highlights the philosophical design concepts in the compound, including the Sanga Mandala (where structures within the area are positioned according to the nine cardinal directions) and Asta Kosala Kosali (Balinese feng shui).

Later, we walk past subsistence farmland to a firefly conservation laboratory founded by his father, Wayan Wardika. Named “Bring Back the Light”, the non-profit works with students from local universities to repopulate the fireflies in the village.

In addition to promoting eco-tourism and selling organic honey from his trigona bee — a black stingless bee that produces a sour honey — hives, he’s encouraging farmers in the area to stop using insecticides and opt for eco-friendly practices. 

Driving the hyperlocal programming is Made Warnata, director of spa-wellness and recreation, who’s from another village in Payangan, called Begawan. Said to come from a long line of high priests, his connections to Bali are evident in the resort’s experiences, which feel like an exclusive insight into the culture.

He’s also responsible for incorporating indigenous therapies at the spa, such as the Balinese Mepijet, which utilises stretching, skin rolling, and pressure techniques with ginger oil made by herbalists of Jamusara.

Not that I’ll need any more reasons to stay put in the resort. As I watch the setting sun colour the sky orange from the villa, the infinity pool bubbling quietly in the background, I touch the tridatu around my wrist.

Though my initial plan to attend the water purification ceremony was put off (women on their period aren’t allowed to enter temples), spiritual healing is perhaps found not only in religious rituals but in reconnecting with the intentions behind our actions, from significant moments to those as minute as fireflies.