Bali is three islands pretending to be one

Visa on arrival at Ngurah Rai takes twenty minutes if you have the fee in exact rupiah and a printed return ticket. Then the driver takes the Sukawati road north for ninety minutes, past the stone-carvers and the kite shops, to Ubud. The villa greets you with a flower bath and a welcome drink on the deck. Do nothing else tonight except the Legong dance at Ubud Palace, which starts at half past seven and costs less than a coffee at the airport.

The Campuhan ridge walk is a two-kilometre grass spine between two river valleys. At seven it is yours; at nine it is a queue. Then Tegalalang, where the rice terraces are photographed by everyone and walked by almost nobody, so walk them. The Sacred Monkey Forest and Tegenungan waterfall fill the afternoon. If you want one paid day in Ubud, make it the white-water rafting on the Ayung: two hours through gorge and jungle, and the kind of tired that makes the villa pool feel earned.

North to the Kintamani rim for the view across the caldera to Mount Batur and its lake. Lunch on the ridge. On the way down, Tirta Empul, where Balinese Hindus queue at the purification spouts and you may join if you wear the sarong and mean it. Then a Luwak coffee plantation, which is a tourist trap that happens to be pleasant. By five you are on the coast at Seminyak. This is the day most people try to do by themselves in a hired scooter. Do not; the Kintamani road is the one place the island is unforgiving.

The floating breakfast is a cliché because it works. The day is yours on Petitenget: the beach clubs open at noon, and Ku De Ta and Potato Head will take a day bed and a minimum spend. At five the driver goes south to Uluwatu, a temple on a seventy-metre cliff, for the Kecak fire dance as the sun drops behind the performers. Dinner is grilled fish on the sand at Jimbaran, paid by weight, with your feet in it.

The Bali Mandara toll road runs across the water to Nusa Dua, the gated resort strip where a reef keeps the sea flat enough to swim in all day. Check in, then walk the promenade to the Water Blow, where swell forces up through a limestone gap. If the children or the adults want speed, Tanjung Benoa is ten minutes away: jet ski, banana boat, parasailing, all with jackets and a boatman. This is the afternoon to buy rather than plan.

Fast boat from Sanur to Nusa Penida, forty minutes across the strait, for the west-coast circuit: Kelingking, the headland shaped like a T-Rex, then Broken Beach, Angel’s Billabong and Crystal Bay. The roads on Penida are rough and every viewpoint involves steep steps, so wear real shoes and go with a driver who knows the order. Back by five. The last night is dinner by candlelight on the sand, which we set up, and you do not need to.

Nusa Dua is the closest base to Ngurah Rai, which is why it is last. Late check-out where the resort allows it, last shopping at Bali Collection, and remember that wood carvings and anything organic must be declared at Indian customs. Keep the receipts.