From War Zones to Paradise: An Unforgettable Journey from Afghanistan to Bali

 

They advise you initially, when you are leaving Afghanistan, "Stay safe." But from a nation devastated by war to an island caressed by the sun, how can you stay safe when you are about to start a voyage half around the globe? This was no standard journey. It was a narrative spun with anxiety, doubt, laughter, and finally delight. And it all began with one step towards the future onto an old, rattling bus.

The departure is a heart full of doubt and a bag full of memories.

Though Kabul was behind me, its dust clung to my garments and its memories weighted heavily in my breast. My trip started in the middle of night and crept across the still, ghostly streets. Though it felt like I was, I was not running away. Having left behind all I knew, I was following a dream—a different world, a calm one where bombs did not control my waking hours.

The first leg of the trip was terrifying. Every look from security at the airport seemed to be a quiet questioning. My ticket and my passport appeared like delicate keys that would break right away. Kabul shrank under me and for the first time in years I breathed easily when my jet finally roared to life and lifted off.

Over the Concrete Jungle: a Stop in Dubai

Arriving in Dubai felt as though one were entering another planet. It was overpowering—the shining buildings, the air-conditioned airports, the silent efficiency. Having a six-hour stopover, I had enough time to sit in a food court and wonder at how different life may be. Beside me was a man eating sushi as if it were the most natural thing on Earth. Conversely, I was attempting to figure out why a cup of coffee cost more than a whole dinner back home.

I laughed inside me. "You're not in Kabul anymore," I said quietly.

Driven by duty-free stores offering scents I couldn't pronounce and watches more than my house, I meandered the terminal under trance. It was weird, seductive, and perhaps a touch ridiculous—like a dream. Though I considered getting a keepsake, I decided on a bottle of water. Prudence above luxury.

Jakarta: A Disorderful Welcome

Reality set in sharp relief when I arrived in Jakarta The humidity was a constant smack in the face. Thick and merciless. The airport was a symphony of whining horns, fast-talking residents, and backpackers as disoriented as I felt.

Nobody tells you, but negotiating a foreign country is like playing a highly demanding game with constantly shifting rules. Finding my domestic flight to Bali combined wild gestures, poor English, and unquestioning faith in total strangers. To board my next aircraft, a taxi driver said I required a unique "tourist permit." I shook my head, laughed, then continued on.

Jakarta buzzed with a new type of vitality, chaotic but vibrant. The food stands smelt like perfection, the streets throbbed with colour, and the people—despite the craziness—were rather gentle. I felt for the first time that I was in an adventure film, starring as the naive protagonist who somehow survives.

Balu: Love Found at First Sight

And then Bali came into play.

I sensed it the instant I left the aircraft. That indefensible magic. The air smelt of salt and flowers, the breeze brought whispers of the ocean, and for the first time in aeons, only distant fireworks—not bombs—were audible.

The journey to Ubud was like a fever dream—endless rice terraces, temples that appeared to breathe with history, and streets lined with stores offering items I never would have known I needed. One Monkey tried to pilfers my sunglasses. Allow him.

The next few days were a jumble of sunsets painting the sky in tones I never knew existed, waves kissing my feet like old lovers, and food making me doubt all I had ever eaten before.

I encountered travellers, searchers, wanderers from all around the globe. Over mugs of robust Balinese coffee, we traded tales, laughed at our bad luck, and marvelled at the utter ridiculousness of life.

One night I realised something very significant: I had made it as I sat on a peaceful beach beneath a star-filled sky. From heaven to battle areas. From anxiety to emancipation.

Learning from the Trip

Not every trip are only about getting from one point to another. There are paths that transform you. Some paths show you that although your home is where your heart finds comfort rather than necessarily where you were born.

Getting out of Afghanistan was not simple. Arriving in Bali proved not easy. Still, between the two I discovered something surprising: myself.

FAQ: Typical Questions I Get Asked Continually

Q: Was it frightening to fly from Afghanistan to Bali alone?
A: Terrifying occasionally but also thrilling. Though it was a gamble every step, that was what made it unforgettable.

Q: Were you in cultural shock?
A: Definitely! From cuisine to customs to the pure quiet, everything was a world different from what I knew.

Q: Could you do it one more?
A: In a heartbeat. The trip is always worth it regardless of how far you travel.

Q: Of Bali, what was its finest feature?
A: The sense of at last being somewhere I avoided looking over my shoulder. Then the sunsets. definitely the sunsets.

Q: Any suggestions for travellers?
A: Say yes to experiences; follow your gut; never undervalue the power of a great narrative. Because ultimately the best paths are those that permanently alter you.