You’ll ride with a local Ubud driver who lets you set the pace—temples, rice terraces, waterfalls or markets are all on the table. Expect friendly chats, flexible stops, and small moments like sharing fruit or learning about daily rituals. This isn’t about rushing; it’s about soaking up Bali’s rhythm with someone who knows every turn.
The private car hire lasts 8-10 hours for a full day tour.
Yes, pickup and drop-off are included for hotels in Ubud, Sanur, and Benoa port.
Yes, you can customize your itinerary with your driver when you meet—temples, waterfalls, markets and more.
No, entrance fees at sites are not included in the price of the private car hire.
Infants can ride in a pram or stroller or sit on an adult’s lap during the tour.
This tour is not recommended for travelers with spinal injuries, pregnant travelers or those with poor cardiovascular health.
Yes, your private driver speaks English and will guide you throughout the day.
No, women who are menstruating are not allowed to enter certain temples and holy springs.
Your day includes flexible private transportation by air-conditioned vehicle with an English-speaking local driver-guide. Pickup and drop-off are provided for Ubud hotels as well as Sanur and Benoa port locations. All petrol and parking fees are covered so you can focus on exploring at your own pace—with plenty of room for spontaneous stops along the way.
“You don’t have to rush here,” our driver Wayan said as we pulled up near the Monkey Forest in Ubud. He was right — it felt like the kind of day where nobody’s checking their watch, not even him. The air smelled faintly of clove cigarettes and frangipani, and I swear every time we stopped, someone nearby was laughing or calling out in Balinese. Wayan asked if we wanted to see Tirta Empul temple first or go straight to the Tegallalang rice terraces. I hesitated (I’m terrible at decisions), but he just grinned and said, “We can do both — this is your day.”
The road between stops was its own little adventure. Sometimes the windows fogged up from the humidity, sometimes we’d catch a whiff of incense from a roadside shrine. I tried saying “thank you” in Bahasa Indonesia — Wayan nodded politely but I could tell my pronunciation was off (he didn’t laugh though). At Gunung Kawi temple, he explained how locals leave offerings at sunrise; it made me notice all those tiny woven baskets everywhere after that. We wandered through Penglipuran village too, where an old woman waved us inside her courtyard just to show off her dog — she didn’t speak English but somehow it didn’t matter.
I still think about the lunch stop near Kintamani — just fried noodles and sweet tea, but the view over Mount Batur was hazy and perfect. If you want to skip a waterfall or add in a market stop, Wayan seems completely unfazed. The only thing he insisted on was that we try some snake fruit from a roadside stall (tastes better than it sounds). By afternoon, I’d lost track of which temple was which — not because they’re forgettable, but because everything started blending into this slow rhythm of Bali days: sunlight flickering through palm leaves, motorbikes zipping past shrines, us just drifting from place to place.
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