By Douglas Evan Weiss
The official court date to decide the fate of Bingin beach is July 22. But the government has posted that July 21 is the final day of private ownership. That means on July 21 the government will reclaim the land at Bingin beach and all the businesses and residencies there will be confiscated and demolished. What will come afterwards has not been announced, but there are rumors and hints, mostly revolving around rich foreign investment and beach clubs.
Bingin beach means so much to a great many people. Some of the finest people I’ve ever met convened around this beach and along the surrounding cliffs. A few of the best waves I ever rode were caught here at this perfect break. Many stories. Many late nights and early mornings. Many courageous, nomadic, unique individuals huddling in the shade. Lovers in inexpensive Warungs with the windows open and a view of the wave breaking in front. An absolute surfers paradise. An absolute vortex in the finest and most human definition of that vague word. We were all so fortunate to spend time here and be together here and grow from here.
The news of this government take over is horrible and disconcerting. The affects on the local families there will be severe. Some of these people have spent their entire lives building their small business at Bingin beach, catering to tourists and locals alike, cultivating a welcoming atmosphere that has made Bingin such a special destination. For those who have spent longer periods of time at Bingin these Indonesian angels are priceless and irreplaceable. While the work is not glamorous and the money is not high these local men and women have enduring pride in their work and their island and their beach. The Warung and cafe owners preparing salads and smoothies; the women in the parking lot shuttling bags; the jewelry sellers and sarong vendors; the ding repair gurus; the home stay savants. All legendary.
There are individuals here whom I absolutely love. People directly responsible for who I am today, and the work I do. These sweet souls are little giants. Absolute legends. Selfless saviors and bottomless in generosity and kindness. When looking out at this messy world in 2025 I am forever grateful for the times we had at Bingin and the people I met there. My heart was constructed and broken along this little beach many times over. There will be no substitute.
The surfboard builder Bob Mctavish wisely said that “nostalgia is poison,” and I try to subscribe to this wise maxim. Those Bingin days are behind us all, and will live in the friendships and stories we talk and write. Years roll along and the future constantly arrives quickly. I accept the inevitabilities of change. Yet this feels like a wrecking ball taken to an entire culture that is inherently local to this beachside village. There is a stench of rape and inequality to this current land grab. A practice of displacement old as humanity and so common through the crooked ages of time.
Ultimately this tragedy of development and progress is about the people at Bingin. The helpless loss. My heart truly goes out to them all.
After 10 consecutive seasons in Bali I have not been back since 2020, and my friends tell me so much has changed since then. They say I would not recognize it. They say it is hectic. I’m sure this is all true. I hold the dearest memories of this place. But they also say that vibe on this magical island remains unique. That the energy is still like no where else. That the Gods watch over Bali still. I wonder what the Gods currently have in store for Bingin beach. What complicated agendas are at play. What struggles of tradition versus modernity manifest. What karma has led to this.
But mostly I wonder what the local people will do. Where they will work and how they will make money and support the multiple generations that often toil together in Bali. These people who have invested their lives in building and creating and maintaining business there, on the land which has been theirs for decades – what becomes of them now that the government strolls in and demands it all back?
Winston Churchill once wrote that “the inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings.” Bingin beach has been an absolute blessing to myself and many others who walked down those steep and narrow stairs to find a tiny bubble of friendship and freedom on the sides of those limestone cliffs. To now see this all crumble under the treads of bulldozers and cranes, at the hands of politicians and investors, is surreal and heartbreaking.
Somehow that which is special, ideal, utopian, actually can exist, and for so long did exist, in the casual loves and life long friends and curling salt water and perfect reef and generous sands of Bingin beach. We had it so good for long, and these memories and relationships live on, stretched across the globe and connected by a recognition of time spent and times had. Game knows game.
In these days leading up to the court case I pray for Bingin, and for all these epicenters of community and cool that seem to be fading away.
