If we ask you to think of Bali’s best-known wellness activities, meditation, yoga and various other cross-legged pursuits will probably spring to mind. DJ Harvey would like to remind you that there’s another practice people have been using to get their chakras aligned, their spirits uplifted and their auras cleansed since our cave-dwelling days.
“Dancing around is as ancient and as natural as getting up in the morning,” says the legendary British disc jockey. Harvey argues that rather than being debauched or hedonistic, going out to dance all night is in fact an act of self-care. “If it puts a smile on your face and makes you happy, that’s mental health, that’s healthy. And if you happen to get some aerobic exercise from it, that’s physical health. And if you make a new friend, all the better.”
In Harvey’s view, “Dancing to music is a wonderful pursuit. I can’t see anything wrong with it in any way, shape, or form. It’s completely beneficial in every single way.” Should you find yourself in Bali in May—and isn’t that why people go to Bali, to find themselves?—you can sample Harvey’s brand of spiritual healing during his month-long residence at Klymax, the new club he’s established at Desa Potatohead in Seminyak.
The 400-capacity subterranean space was designed to Harvey’s exacting specs, from the state-of-the-art sound system down to a gentle sprinkling of dust on the disco ball, which softens its effect, Harvey reckons. A visual reflection of the ‘cosmic disco’ sound Harvey is often associated with, Klymax’s aesthetic resembles a nightclub scene from a stylish 1970s sci-fi movie—except instead of Michael York or Charlton Heston, here, you’re the star.
The technology used in DJing has advanced immensely over the course of Harvey’s five-decade career. But at the end of the day (or the end of the night, as the case may be), success as a DJ comes down to playing the right music to suit the moment and the mood, Harvey says.
“You choose a record, and then you choose the next one—hopefully you haven’t chosen them all before you get to the party, which some people do,” he chides. “You play some music and hope people like it, and then you play another tune and hope they like that, and you try to get from one record to the next without bringing the dance floor to a screeching halt. And if everyone’s smiling at the end, you’ve done your job, simple as that.”
As space-age as Klymax may appear, as high-tech as the equipment he uses is, the partying Harvey presides over is part of a tradition dating back to the most primitive times, at the very dawn of mankind. “The frequencies don’t change, just the delivery. It used to be we’d beat a stick on a log, now you press a green button. But the rhythm that comes out, that has never changed and can never change because they are frequencies and rhythms that tune into the frequencies and rhythms of your existence,” Harvey believes. “That stuff doesn’t change, it’s just the medium which produces those rhythms or frequencies that evolves.”
Farina Ghanie, who runs wellness retreats for stressed-out executives in Singapore under the moniker ARISE, says dancing and getting out of your head (perhaps in more ways than one) possess plenty of parallels with the more esoteric forms of mind-body-spirit wellness. “Dancing is effectively a form of meditation because you are one with yourself,” she says. “It’s about connecting with your breath, being connected with your body. It’s similar to when elite sports athletes get into a hyper focus state. That is a form of meditation, too, because everything external, all the ‘noise’ is removed, and they only focus on one thing.”
More and more men are coming to recognise the importance of taking time for physical and mental self-care before they reach the stage of burning out. “At our retreats, we teach very simple practices like breath work—it’s just breathing, you don’t have to look at it as something spiritual or ‘new age’,” Ghanie says. “It’s just about you, showing up for yourself and giving yourself time to breathe, and just being. It’s about acknowledging the need for these moments of self-care and self-love, the need to recharge our batteries and to make time for ourselves because life is so chaotic.”
According to Ghanie, many men who attend one of her retreats use it as a way of gaining certain skills necessary to better look after their own physical wellness and mental health, independently. “We help people to experience these ancient tools and techniques that have existed in Asia for thousands of years, that really help with mindfulness,” she says. “These wellness experiences calm the nervous system, helping to reduce stress and anxiety. And when you do that, that’s when the magic happens—you get clarity, you get quietness of the mind, you get focus, and you get creativity coming out.”
Musician, designer and artist Kiat says for him, creative self-expression is cathartic. “Making music had long been my main form of personal therapy, but I’d always seen it as something to share in person, something linked to a physical space, a sound system, to an actual physical interaction, which wasn’t possible during the pandemic.” During the lockdowns, he says, “I started taking up the brush a lot more, purely out of the need to express myself, not for anyone else, without any feedback, because when I’m painting, it’s just me and the canvas.”
Kiat says when he began making art for art’s sake, painting for the fun of it, “A strange thing happened. I not only felt better—I literally felt like the weight of the world had lifted, I felt a lot lighter, less anxious, I could breathe a bit more. But also, the more I painted and the better I felt, the more my professional work life improved, the more freelance jobs started coming in, even in the middle of the pandemic.”
The lesson Kiat took away from this intense period was, “Sometimes things don’t work out exactly as you wanted or how you’d planned, but it’s ok as long as you keep creating, and as long as you create for yourself, rather than create for other people. Just exercise pure creativity, whether that be through cooking, gardening, writing, painting, singing, dancing, whatever. It’s ok not to be perfect or to reach a finish point—just enjoy the experience. That in itself is its own reward.”
For the launch of BOSS' Spring/Summer 2024 collection, the label created BOSS House Bali. Think of it as an immersive showroom. This is where HUGO BOSS EXPERIENCE members, VIP customers and KOLs from the Asia-Pacific region get to experience the BOSS lifestyle 24/7. BOSS took over a villa and dress it up in all the BOSS trappings. Where every corner is a homage to the BOSS lifestyle—a BOSS The Collection Parfum on a side table; BOSS House Bali’s own resident French bulldog is attired in BOSS dog accessories; signature bedding, bathrobes and towels from the SS24 collection—this is a destination where guests can recharge and soak in the BOSS experience.
But... if you're not a HUGO BOSS EXPERIENCE member, VIP customer and KOL, what can you do? Welp, if you're travelling or transiting, you can still check out BOSS House Bali... at Changi Airport Terminal 3.
Running until 9 May, a Balinese-inspired BOSS pop-up store is in operation diagonally from the a newly reopened BOSS store. At the pop-up, visitors can explore a curated selection of summer essentials from BOSS Menswear. That includes holiday-ready footwear, travel accessories, eyewear, and even BOSS-branded canine accessories. (Sorry cats! Maybe next time?) A highlight among the collection: a five-piece capsule line that features a BOSS Bali-themed patch. The limited-edition capsule includes beach-ready shorts, a classic polo shirt adorned with the iconic stripe, a tropical palm-print shirt and two T-shirts in white and BOSS’s signature camel-hue. The capsule is only available at the pop-up and BOSS store.
Visitors can also play with Magic Mirror tech and try out different outfits from the SS24 collection. Check out the BOSS The Collection—a fragrance wardrobe comprising 12 unique scents designed for every dress occasion. There will be fragrance consultants on hand to provide meaningful feedback and helping you settle on the scent for your individual style. Also, shoppers who spend over SGD1,000 will get the chance to win a remarkable three-day, two-night stay at BOSS House Bali.
The flight between Singapore and Bali is close to three hours long and, already, I’m imagining scenarios of what happens if the plane starts to malfunction. Oxygen masks will drop like hanged men; the steel cabin that we are in may close in, turning into a collective metal coffin. One doesn’t usually start a travel piece with downed plane imagery but when you are travelling with a child who has never flown before, the mind tends to wander into dark territories.
That’s not to say that we didn’t plan ahead. We drafted out a checklist of possible outcomes that our child might end up in during the flight, and preventables: restlessness (a colouring book); blocked ears (a lollipop or sweet to suck on); loud engine noises (headphones that are hooked to a laptop with kid-friendly programmes); hunger (a packet of trail mix). But to paraphrase the Yiddish proverb: “Make plans. God laughs.” Our child, wee but shockingly inventive, found ways to stymie us. After an hour of colouring, he is now fidgety and reluctant to remain in his seat, let alone, be strapped into his seat.
The distractions have lost their powers and we’re left with nothing but hushed threats and calls to reason with this emotional terrorist. My mind wanders. I picture our plane making impact with the side of the mountain.
IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a getaway. A slice of free time carved out from a busy schedule, a weekend that I can greedily indulge in. It will be spent at Desa Potato Head, a sprawling 226-guest room hotel that’s set on Petitenget Beach in Seminyak. Before we were married, the wife and I visited the site (then Potato Head Bali). I remember spending lazy hours on the daybed at the Beach Club. Now with a child added to the mix, we decided a sojourn at the resort would be an experience.
A lot has changed since the wife and I were last here. The hotel rebranded itself from Potato Head Bali to Desa Potato Head. “Desa”, which means “village” in Bahasa Indonesia is the throughline in which the place operates. This is a creative village where art, music, design, good food and wellness co-exist.
The place already stood out with its eye-catching aesthetics—Liina Klauss’ 5,000 Lost Soles (2016), an installation made out of flip-flops salvaged from the Bali beaches or the Beach Club’s exterior that’s built out of wooden window shutters. If you think the hotel’s Brutalist architecture set against the backdrop of the tropics looks off-kilter, the invasion of new artwork will enthral you. Take Nano Uhero’s “The Womb”, a bamboo sculpture that visitors coming in from the entrance would have to traverse through. There's Future2000’s iconic Pointman standing like a sentinel in the courtyard of Potato Head Studios. Fashioned out of repurposed waste materials collected from the waterways of Bali, the Pointman stands as a testament to the Balinese philosophy of duality—taking trash and turning it into a work of art.
Excited by the appearance of the Pointman, the kid scurries towards the legs, at first trying to scale it but eventually settling on hiding behind them. His voice in a higher register than usual, calls to us to look at the sculpture.
After registration, guests are brought to the Circle Store, where upcycled amenities and merch are sold. We were presented a zero-waste kit, which consisted of an RPET tote bag and a sustainable drinking bottle—you can ask any of Desa Potato Head staff to fill the bottle with water. No extra cost, no waste.
Throughout our stay, we are sequestered in the Oceanfront Studio at the Potato Head Studios wing. The room is larger than imagined. It faces the ocean and is filled with tasteful furnishings by Max Lamb—a recycled plastic desk chair; volcanic glassware and ceramics. The coffee table hides a drinks cabinet. There’s music coming in from the Beach Club. Even with the windows shut, you can still hear the cloth-wrapped notes. The kid is jumping on the bed before his feet make a resounding thud on the floor. The sky looks clear. Time to hit the Beachfront Pool.
THERE ARE LOADS TO DO at Desa Potato Head. There’s live music playing at Potato Head Beach Club or the Amphitheatre. But if you’re looking for a more intimate activity, there’s the Headphone Bar. There, you can sift through the site’s vinyl collection for a listening session.
On the second floor of Potato Head Studios, the Library (Studio Eksotika) is a quiet spot to peruse a variety of curated reading material. In a rare moment to myself, I polished off the entire photo collection of battle jackets by Peter Beste.
Next to it is the spa and gym. Above it, is Sunset Park, a rooftop bar that overlooks the Indian Ocean. Later that evening, we would eat at Tananam, a casual restaurant that serves plant-based cuisine. Taking ingredients that are locally sourced, chef Dom Hammond presents dishes that are creative without alienating omnivores like my family.
We started with a Roti (lightly salted with East Bali sea salt). Brokoli (broccoli that’s finished with coconut and chive oil sauce) dish is next as I carried the kid to peruse the rest of the restaurant. The space is suffused in a violet glow emanating from the lights of their indoor garden. It feels otherworldly, like we’re in a different clime, even though there’s nothing more natural and familiar than its dishes.
Later that evening, the child would fight against the sleep for an hour before succumbing to it. My poor wife thinks she’s down with something and pops two Panadols.
We have tickets to a Sbtrkt gig playing tonight at Beach Club. I’ve wanted to watch him ever since he stopped making music in 2014. But better judgment took over and we slept against the lullaby of electronic music.
DESA POTATO HEAD CATERS TO family, with programmes for the little ones called Sweet Potato Kids. At these sessions, children are kept busy with lessons on sustainability or with exercises like this morning’s workout. The child and I are at Desa Playground where a trainer starts with some light stretching before leading the group on a slow jog around the compound.
We climb the steps all the way to Sunset Park. It’s still early and the staff paid us no mind as they sweep up the place. The sky is overcast and already the sheen of sweat on our skin feels cool against the sea breeze. The trainer tells us that it’s time to head back and my kid gives an audible, oh man. We bound our way down the steps, my child’s energy shows no signs of abating.
With my wife still recuperating, I took the kid to Ijen for lunch. Serving primarily fresh seafood that is caught responsibly in these local waters, we dug into Sardines (crumbed sardines that are served on desa croissant loaf and drizzled with tartar and fermented hot sauce) and Roasted Cauliflower (smothered in keluwek tahini). We have a chocolate desert and, of course, he makes a mess but that’s what children do. He does not have the fine motor skills an adult have. His spills look like atolls and I wiped them up. A small annoyance but one that quickly disappears when he bared his chocolate-stained teeth. See daddy. Look at me, he says.
I take a spoonful of desert and showed him my browned chompers and we both laugh.
RONALD AKILI JUST WANTED A better future for his children.
In 2016, the founder of Desa Potato Head went surfing on the Bali coast with his eldest son. They found themselves surrounded by ocean plastics. In an interview, Akili says that moment pushed him to ensure Desa Potato Head does minimal damage to the environment. “I want to pass on to future generations a better world—something that I think is innate in all of us.”
Under the guidance of Eco Mantra, a Bali-based environmental engineering consultancy, Desa Potato Head’s commitment to a zero waste-to-landfill goal has reached five per cent. It takes a tremendous amount of legwork to get to that level of sustainability according to Simon Pestridge, CXO of Desa Potato Head. As the former VP of Nike, Pestridge has a “never settle” approach. “With this many people producing this much waste, the tourism industry needs to take a serious look,” he says. “One of the keys to making sure that you can get as close to zero waste as possible is to make sure that the waste is separated at the source. When the team separate the different types of organics that would go to the pig farms or compost, it becomes easier the further down the cycle you get. The management team hold ourselves accountable every week. Sometimes we’re at three per cent... sometimes it’ll be at five per cent and we go back to check why that happened.”
Desa Potato Head has 950 staff, at the time of writing, and every day, they adhere to a regimented process where they will weigh the waste, know what to do with it and track it. Suppliers aren’t allowed to deliver their wares in plastic. Cling wrap is banned in the kitchens. Glasses at Desa Potato Head are made out of cut beer bottles.
Dewa Legawa, Desa Potato Head’s assistant sustainability manager heads a tour for guests curious about the site’s sustainability programme. We are privy to the back of the house, where we witness how they manage the waste up until the production line. Legawa scoops out a pile of shredded HDPE plastics. These will be turned into chairs, toiletries and the like. He points out that the caps on the water bottles that we were given are made from them. At the Waste Lab, we see used plastics moulded into planks before they are fabricated into shape.
This is the “do good” portion in Desa Potato Head’s creed, “Good Times, Do Good”. Fostering a sustainability community in the hospitality sector is a long view of giving back to a planet that we’ve all been greedy to take from. But given that hospitality is still the resort’s primary objective, how does one maintain the good times even when the world is on fire?
“I think everybody still wants to have a good time,” Pestridge says. “Even though the world is on fire, I think there’s even more desire for people to have good times. We just want to do so by leaving as few footprints as possible. That’s why we feel good about coming to work every day.“What we’re doing with the waste facility and the waste centre, that’s an open blueprint. Anyone that wants to learn from us—or we can go to them—we can teach them what we’ve learnt. Zero waste isn’t a competitive advantage. It’s a journey that all of us should be on to make sure that Bali or wherever tourists are heading to is thriving.”
Eschewing the whole “do this or else” approach, this scrappy resort put its money where its mouth is and decided to lead by example. “If we can inspire change through our actions, then we’ve moved the world along on a better trajectory,” Pestridge adds, knowing that what they do is a drop in an ocean. But small changes repeated by many over time... that makes a difference.
I IMAGINE THE OBSTACLE BUILDING inside their heads; just the foolhardy notion of reaching that level of waste reduction. I imagine the manhours, the steep learning curves and the mistakes made along the way. But they have managed to do what all these larger hospitality institutions have struggled to do.
It’s the same with raising another human person. While my parents did what they could do in raising me, when it comes to my kid, I wanted to see if I can do it better. Fact of the matter is that it was sometimes exhausting but there were so many moments that were joyful. I hope he remembers the vacation, the good parts of it. Or, at least, be broadened by the experience that will shape him in the future.
One last memory. On our final day, I lay in the hammock outside of the balcony as tropic-laden tunes from Irama Pantai Selatan washed over me. The Indonesian band is performing at the Beach Club’s Live Sunset Sundays session, where a crowd is gathered around them. Inside the room, my wife rests, while my kid has given in to fatigue and is passed out on his bed.
I have a front-row seat to a sky on fire; the brilliant blaze brought about by the sun lazily descending into the ocean. If I didn’t know any better, it’s a picture-perfect apocalypse. My mind wanders.
At the end of the world, there’s no better place I’d rather be than with family.
