I booked a holiday to Bali expecting to find a paradise island. But when a bag of dog poop floated by in the surf, I realized I was just another Australian lured into an overdeveloped tourist trap.

Australians have had a long-standing love affair with Bali for decades, with more than a million of us heading to the holiday hotspot every year.

But after spending ten days in Uluwatu this month, I had no doubt that our obsession with cheap drinks, lax rules and cliff-top beach clubs has come at a cost.

I can’t help but feel that the old Bali charm I first experienced as a 12-year-old in 2010 has all but disappeared – and the tourists have only ourselves to blame.

On that first trip I had my hair braided, tried nasi goreng for the first time, visited the rice fields and drove along the beach at sunset.

But after my most recent holiday, my image of Bali as a tropical island paradise has been tarnished and I’m in no rush to go back.

My boyfriend and I chose to stay in a private villa in Uluwatu, a small village perched on a cliff on the southwest coast of the Bukit Peninsula.

The area has become a hub for ‘digital nomads’: people who spend half their day in trendy cafes and working remotely and the other half at the gym or on the beach.

I was struck by how attractive they were. All the time spent on self-improvement and in an ice bath or at the spa seemed to pay off.

But behind their seemingly perfect appearance lurked a rather unpleasant reality.

I’m sad to admit that my decade-long love affair with Bali has come to an end – with the constant construction, sewage smell and polluted beaches leaving me far from relaxed

Despite the picturesque scenes, I soon found myself unable to relax amid the constant whine of power tools at a construction site just meters from the pool in our villa (pictured)

Uluwatu has built a reputation as a relaxing coastal retreat where tourists can escape the craziness of areas like Seminyak, Canggu and Kuta.

But this is not the impression I got after the tourist boom. It was disturbing to see the consequences of rapid growth and overdevelopment in Uluwatu.

Construction sites for new Santorini-inspired villas, cafes and boutiques have become an essential part of a stay in Uluwatu.

The warnings I received about the ‘constant’ noise from construction were no joke.

From 8am to 6pm, the high-pitched whine of power tools just meters from our ‘private’ villa left me with a headache most days.

It became increasingly difficult to relax amid the constant drone of an electric saw cutting materials to build another Instagram-worthy villa next door.

Traffic is extremely busy on the narrow roads, especially in the evenings when tourists rush to get a front row seat to watch the sunset.

Surf spots at beaches like Padang Padang, Bingin and Balangan were busier than I remembered – and even became violent.

My friend was shocked to see an angry surfer push another man off his board after being cut off by a wave.

And I can only imagine the frustration Balinese surfers feel when they have to compete with an endless stream of stubborn tourists for the best waves.

Padang Padang Beach in Uluwatu is a popular swimming and surfing spot for tourists (photo)

Then the smell. No matter how much you spend on accommodation in Bali, you can’t escape the smell of raw sewage and rotting garbage.

During my last swim at Bingin Beach, a bag of dog poop floated past my head.

It also became increasingly difficult to ignore the stark contrast between the wealth of tourists and locals.

A Balinese driver told me that hospitality workers earn a flat rate of about IDR$3,000,000 (AU$290) per month – less than what it costs for a sunset booth at Uluwatu restaurant Single Fin.

In addition to the constant construction, congestion and busy surf spots, Bali faces an even bigger problem with its freshwater supply.

Several regions are running out of fresh water at an alarming rate. Experts warn that the entire island will face a ‘water crisis’ as early as 2025.

The Gili Islands, a popular surfing and party destination, face total collapse if water purification systems are not urgently installed, with the islands of Nusa Penida, Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Ceninga eyeing water shortages.

And once again tourism seems to be to blame. Official estimates from an international forum this year show that the hotel sector uses 56 percent of Bali’s total water supply.

Bali’s shortage of fresh water is happening at an alarming rate, with some experts warning that a ‘water crisis’ will hit the entire island by 2025 (photo, popular sunset spot Ulu Cliffhouse in Uluwatu)

But the Indonesian government is showing no signs of slowing down, with the new president this week renewing plans to build a new airport in Bali.

Prabowo Subianto said the airport would transform his country into the region’s “new Singapore or Hong Kong”, despite opposition from locals, who previously saw the project shelved over concerns about overdevelopment.

In the first seven months of 2024, Bali welcomed 3,358,899 foreign tourists – an increase of 22 percent compared to the same period last year.

Up to 1.2 million Australians visited Bali in 2023 – three times as many visitors from any other country, with others choosing to move there permanently.

My ten-year love affair with Bali ended in heartbreak.

But I will always cherish the memories I made on the island, as well as the warmth and hospitality of the Balinese people – something I hope will never change.