IN the early 2000s, Bali was still a welcoming haven for anyone making a living in tourism. Dudy Mayanto, who had just returned from Australia, was among those enjoying the island’s golden opportunities. With Bali Harapan Utama Travel in Renon, he handled American tourists, who at the time were flocking to Bali with great enthusiasm.
But everything changed drastically on October 12, 2002. That night, two powerful bombs exploded in the bustling Legian area of Kuta. Dozens of foreign tourists and local residents lost their lives. Bali was suddenly engulfed in grief. For those working in tourism, including Dudy, the pressure was overwhelming.
He received reports that seven American couples under his care had gone missing. Along with his team, he searched tirelessly at Sanglah Hospital, checking the victims one by one—many of whom were burnt beyond recognition.
“But the results were nil. They weren’t among the victims,” he recalled.
The tension lasted for three long days. Then, suddenly, the seven couples reappeared at a hotel in Nusa Dua. They had just returned from Lovina, where they had rented a car on their own, completely unaware of the tragedy in Kuta. “The relief was indescribable. That moment will never be forgotten,” said Dudy.
Despite the tragedy, Bali’s tourism recovery in 2002 was relatively swift. American visitors, in particular, were not entirely deterred. Many continued to come, as if to show solidarity—that terrorism must not break Bali’s spirit.
Yet three years later, on October 1, 2005, another series of bombs shook Bali—this time in Jimbaran and Kuta. Unlike the first, the second bombing dealt a far heavier blow. The world’s trust in Bali collapsed. Foreign tourists began to hesitate, and recovery took much longer.
Dudy himself was caught in the chaos. At the time, he was handling a massive group of 700 guests at the Intercontinental Jimbaran. On the fifth night, he and his eight-member team decided to dine outside the hotel. They headed to Jimbaran Beach and tried to get a table at the packed Manega Restaurant, before choosing another restaurant next door. Not long after the food was served, a deafening blast tore through the air.
“Blek! Suddenly everything went dark. People panicked, running everywhere. I tried to look for the source of the sound—then I realized, it was a bomb!”
Chaos ensued. Panic mixed with adrenaline as diners rushed toward the beach. Security staff from the Intercontinental quickly evacuated survivors back into the hotel compound. That night, communication was completely cut off. “The signal was dead. I couldn’t call anyone,” Dudy recalled.
The two bombings left indelible marks on Dudy’s journey in Bali’s tourism industry—from the relief of finding his guests safe in 2002, to the terrifying moments of the 2005 explosions.
Together, they became a sobering reminder: Bali’s tourism is not only about its beautiful beaches and rich culture—it is also about the world’s trust. And once that trust is broken, it takes a long and painful process to rebuild it. **
Writer: Karolina, Editor: Igo Kleden
