Lost Lindenberg

Bali means ‘offering’ and it’s the island of the gods for good reason, since every morning starts with offerings to the gods and goddesses, and the days in Bali smell wonderfully of incense. When I reach Lost Lindenberg, I’m led to its offering spot, holy water is splashed on my head, incense is lit and a Tridatu bracelet is wrapped around my wrist. It’s a cotton bracelet — tied on wrists all over Bali in their thousands every day after ceremonies — made of black, red and white thread, to represent the three main Gods of Hinduism (Wisnu, Siwa and Brahma), as well as birth, life and death. So now I've officially arrived at Lost. It’s time to let go of the world and unwind in paradise. 

I’m led into the jungle towards my ocean-edge suite. Each of the eight rooms at Lost is a dream treehouse for grown-ups, perched high in the trees with a bird’s-eye view of the jungle or ocean. Each one feels nest-like, and I can’t wait to nestle in, bird-of-paradise style.

Designed by a dream team of top Bali-based architects, Alexis Dornier and Max Jencquel, the whole of Lost is utter heaven — I think it’s my favourite beach hotel in the world. It has everything I love: grown-up treehouses, incredible interiors, a beautiful swimming pool, the most epic wild beach and heavenly staff. It’s perfect.

I sip my welcome elderflower drink (saving the gin and tonic for later) and eat some rambutan (Balinese lychees) on the cosy sofa, watching the ocean through my floor-to-ceiling picture window. I write a little at the desk in my suite; I can hear the birds in the treetops beside me and the sound of the ocean soothes. 

I slip on a swimsuit, pick up the mini speaker, water bottle, sun hat and bag left in my room, along with a record that says ‘Play at the Bar’, and head to the pool bar. I play my record — it’s Lou Reed — and jump into a deep green pool, shaded by trees, to swim as I sing. A fellow guest shouts, 'I love this song!' (Perfect Day) and starts dancing. We’re the only two guests in the bar and pool area, and it feels like heaven. 

Once the record stops turning, I hop out of the pool and order a pitta wrap — all of the food is plant-based, delicious and nourishing — and a fresh juice, before wandering down the wooden path, through the trees, to the beach. 

And what a beach! I grab a bodyboard on the way down and run into the ocean. Iki the surf coach watches over to make sure I’m okay as I play in the waves — it's wonderful to feel so free. 

The rest of the afternoon is spent on the wild, black, glittering beach, where the ocean reflects the galaxy. I walk up and down collecting pink shells, and try to read but end up staring at the sky. I’m the only one there for most of the time — there are only three pairs of sunbeds laid out on the beach, as there are so few guests at the hotel during my stay, and so many other sweet places to relax in dotted about the grounds. 

A text from the Lost team arrives, asking if I’d like a massage. Of course I would! So, I pop to my nest to collect a linen dressing gown — pink to match the beach shells — and head to the spa, which is inside a wooden joglo (a traditional Javanese house made of wood) hidden in the trees. The spa is seriously sexy, with black linen massage beds. I have the most incredible hot-river-stone massage, with geranium oil and the soft warm stones melting any stress left away. 

The sky is now ablaze, and the locals come out to enjoy the lush nature. Iki arrives and lights a bonfire, and the guests gather on bean bags with drinks to watch the sun as it sets into the ocean. A couple get married, just the two of them, further along the beach. I borrow Iki’s scooter and fly up and down the beach beneath the pink sky — children are waving, locals are out to play, others are zipping along the beach on bikes too, families are flying kites. I could not be happier.

Once the sky is dark, we guests all make our way to the communal dinner table — this is totally optional, but it’s such a fun experience. My new friends and I feast on corn bread with peanut sauce, long beans and vegetable curries, and chat about our love of Bali and how amazing the hotel is.  

Later, in my room, I notice everything matches the tones of the beach; the sheets are soft grey like the sand, and the lights, made by Gaya Ceramic, are pink like the shells. There are also tiny green accents to match the jungle.

Everything you need is waiting in the bathroom: toothbrushes, fragrant shower gels and shampoos. The bed has a huge muslin net all around it, so you feel cocooned as you drift off to sleep, with the sound of the waves like a lullaby.  

The next morning, I chat at the bar with new friends, over a perfect bowl of chopped dragon fruit, watermelon and passionfruit, amazing coffee, and edamame on sourdough toast. The smell of incense is rich and delicious.

Then Iki comes to see who wants to catch some waves. I give it a roll, tumbling more than surfing; the conditions are ideal for beginners, with no one around and soft sand underneath to fall onto. Pro surfers can head down the beach in the hotel’s VW campervan to Medewi’s famous waves. 

There are plenty of options in terms of places to explore, but the luxury of relaxing in heaven is too tempting. I spend the day writing and reading at the beach, and chatting to the other guests at the bar, all interesting creative souls. 

After sunset, I decide to explore Medewi. Iki takes me in the campervan to his family’s Rasta Café for tasty fish curry, rice and spicy sambal, and a fresh coconut served up with reggae tunes, and the hotel sends someone to collect me when I’m done. 

Lost Lindenberg is like the home of your perfect friend, the friend with the best taste, the most caring nature, the friend that lets you be free to do whatever you’d like to do. Your hosts are the birds singing beside your treehouse and the lovely staff, headed by Dewi, the kindest hotel manager you could hope for.

If you ever feel the urge to get a little lost from the world, Lost Lindenberg is the place to do it. Do your soul a favour and melt into its wild magic. I long to go back and get lost all over again.