Welcome to Steve’s Bali Bogan Blog!
You’ve wandered into my gloriously shambolic slice of Bali: one sunburnt Aussie, too many scooters, and a suspicious number of monkeys who clearly own this island and are just letting us visit.
This journal is where every misadventure gets filed: dodging bogans in Bintang singlets, accidentally befriending drag queens and street dogs, and negotiating with the gecko who’s been squatting in my room and refuses to pay rent.
If you like your Bali travel tales messy, sweary, brutally honest and occasionally soaked in sweat, grab a cold one and settle in—you’re absolutely in the right place.
Latest Posts…
Drag me there…
THE DRAG QUEENS OF SEMINYAK By Day Five, after paying 100,000 for the new key card, I’d accepted that Bali was no longer a holiday — it was a psychological experiment designed to test my dignity. The FIFO King had become a minor celebrity. The Scooter Girls had annexed the pool area. The 60+ ladies…
The morning wasn’t over.
The receptionist was still holding my ruined room key between her fingers like it was a biological hazard when she cleared her throat. i turned from the FIFO King, grateful I wouldn’t need to be reminded of last night, or how well his morning bintangs had been going. “Sir… there is also another matter regarding…
The Morning After the Night Before…
Morning, Unfortunately I’d woken up with the distinct feeling that someone had replaced my brain with a warm bowl of nasi goreng. Not the good kind either — the kind you get at 2 a.m. from a place with a flickering light and a cat that looks like it’s seen crimes. My first conscious thought…
Steve Does Bali... and Survives! 