• After working remotely from Bali for two months, Sonya Moore was craving peace and quiet.
• She traveled with a friend to the neighboring island of Sumba.
• The natural beauty, lack of traffic, and smaller number of tourists made for a great getaway.

In March, I decided to take advantage of my flexible schedule and spend two months in Bali, working remotely and exploring the island.

I had already visited Bali many times, and I'm a big fan. But over the years, as its fame has spread, it has become busier. Bali's iconic charm and unique energy are still there, but they now coexist with big crowds and heavy traffic.

During my time there, I relished much of what Bali has to offer: yoga, massages, sound baths, authentic spiritual traditions, gorgeous style, and delicious food. I found pockets away from the crowds in the less-developed regions of Bangli and Sidemen. But after a few weeks in Ubud and south Bali, I found myself craving peace and quiet — specifically, a break from the ever-present sound of motorbike engines.

Luckily, I had planned to wrap up my time in Indonesia with a weeklong side trip to the nearby island of Sumba with a friend.

Overpopulation was no longer a problem

Sumba is a 90-minute direct flight from Denpasar International Airport. It's about twice the size of Bali, has one-sixth of Bali's population, and a fraction of its tourists.

It's also known for limited WiFi and cell service across large swaths of its undeveloped territory. There's no signage on the main roads indicating the island's scenic spots, making it hard for visitors to find them without a local guide. We hired a guide my friend found through Facebook, and we're glad we did.

Sumba's natural beauty lived up to our expectations. The rock-framed sandy coves, the turquoise lagoon, the landscapes of velvety green hills, and the waterfalls left my friend and me in awe. We were charmed by goats lounging by the side of the road and by horses meandering across expanses of golden savannah.

And most of the time, we had the sights all to ourselves. Sometimes, groups of local kids would come over to talk to us. The roads were free of traffic.

Along with the absence of tourists and traffic came the absence of extensive food and massage options, which we had grown accustomed to in Bali. I never found wine or cocktails anywhere in Sumba, though I imagine they're available at the handful of 5-star hotels on the island.

Most people in Sumba didn't speak much English, including our guide, so we needed translation apps to communicate most of the time. When there was no cell service, we had to resort to hand gestures.

And punctuality? We found out that it's not a thing in Sumba. Our driver tended to show up 15 to 20 minutes after our agreed departure time, then order himself a coffee before we left, then stop to pick up his breakfast at a roadside shop or get gas. He was an excellent drone videographer and photographer, though, which helped make up for his relaxed sense of time.

A true mental reset

Our four-day guided Sumba road trip covered a lot of ground.

After the road trip, we spent three nights at a boutique hotel on a deserted stretch of white sand beach in East Sumba, about an hour from the airport, and it was there that we found total relaxation.

Shaded by tall cemara trees, the temperature was perfect both day and night. We were lulled to sleep every night by the sound of gentle ocean waves lapping the shore.

Our hotel, Cemara Beachfront Suite, was $80 per night and came with great service. The staff brought us tea with little desserts every afternoon and were always ready to provide any extras we asked for to make our stay more enjoyable. Except wine. Next time, I'd bring a bottle or two in my suitcase, along with a good book.

The attentive care of the staff and the idyllic setting allowed us to completely unwind and fully enjoy just being there. We could have happily stayed much longer.

Sumba's wild beauty and serene relaxation provided the perfect complement to Bali.

• Last year, Sarah Khan, 33, and her husband moved out and became digital nomads.
• So far, they've worked from Bali, Rome, Tuscany, Bangkok, Phuket, and Alicante.
• Bali has been her favorite place to work.

The Mediterranean sparkles to my left as I type from a foldable desk on the terrace of a cozy home in a quiet coastal town in Spain. Rolling green hills stretch to my right, framing the space that will be home for the next three months, until we pack up and move again.

It's been 12 months since my husband and I embarked on a nomadic life. We sold everything, ended our four-year apartment lease in Singapore, and boarded a one-way flight to Bali. Since then, we've worked from Bali, Rome, Tuscany, Bangkok, Phuket, and now the coast of Alicante in Spain.

Friends and fellow travelers often ask, "Where's your favorite place to work?" I'm sometimes hesitant to answer because it's so subjective. Choosing a base as a nomad involves a different set of criteria than picking a vacation spot. For me, factors like community, longer-stay visas, reliable WiFi, easy access to nature, and a vibrant wellness scene are at the top of the checklist.

Still, if I had to choose, the place that stands out— and one I'd happily return to — is Bali.

I felt at home

Bali was my first port of call as a digital nomad, and I spent a happy four months working and living there.

Despite internet discourse about how "overrun" parts of the island have become, it remains my favourite place to work remotely to this day. Perhaps I'm biased — with my Indonesian roots and years of vacationing there, I feel instantly at home.

My husband and I chose Berawa as our base, a laidback neighbourhood just outside the buzz of Canggu. Located on Bali's southern coast, Canggu has transformed from a sleepy surf village into the island's hippest enclave, packed with trendy cafés and black sand beaches that draw yogis and surfers in equal measure.

This was my first time staying in Berawa, and it turned out to be the ideal spot for an extended stay. You get proximity to the action of Canggu without actually living in the thick of it. My two-bedroom villa, tucked down a quiet lane off a main road, placed me less than 10 minutes from central Canggu.

Bali's cost of living has crept up in recent years, but it still offered value for our longer stay. Our villa rent was $1,800 a month, which included a pool, fast WiFi, and weekly cleaning — less than half of what I'd paid for my apartment in Singapore.

A remote worker's dream setup

Bali was an easy place to get started on my nomad life. The island is exceptionally well-equipped for long stays: the WiFi is generally reliable, there are plenty of supermarkets and pharmacies available for daily necessities, and ride-hailing apps are affordable and convenient.

After a year on the road, I've come to appreciate how rare this combination is.

The island also boasts one of the best remote work ecosystems I've experienced, from coworking spaces like Outpost and BWork to laptop-friendly cafés. I rotated through a few favourites: the workspace upstairs at Woods, Zin Cafe, and Lighthouse, a coworking café with beautiful rice field views and its own on-site podcast and video studio.

It's also easy to stay active and healthy in Bali. Gyms, yoga studios, and affordable massages are aplenty, especially around Berawa. And food options are great: from warungs serving fragrant local dishes to health-forward cafés and world-class restaurants.

When work felt overwhelming and I needed a break, I could hop on a scooter and be at the beach in minutes. There were also many options for weekend escapes: We managed trips to the pristine Nusa Lembongan and Ceningan islands, a day trip to serene Sidemen, and explored the east coast's slower-paced beach towns like Amed and Candidasa.

These experiences revealed a quieter, more soulful side of Bali — one I'd missed on past short trips.

The downsides

Of course, no place is perfect. Traffic in Canggu can be chaotic, and the island's infrastructure is still catching up with its tourism growth. There's also a digital nomad community that, at times, can feel like a bubble and disconnected from authentic local life.

But once you find your rhythm and favourite nooks, it's easy to tune out the noise and settle into Bali's slower, softer pace.

I made it a point to skip the touristy spots, stay just outside the main areas, and design my life and routine around the kind of experience I wanted.

A year into nomadic living, I've felt uprooted, disoriented, and occasionally exhausted. But in Bali, I found a version of myself I liked: Focused, centered, and rested.