When French-born American adventurer and filmmaker André Roosevelt traveled to the Indonesian island of Bali in 1924, he was conflicted.
The cousin of former President Theodore Roosevelt saw the clear beauty and attraction of the place, which he nicknamed “The Last Paradise,” and he would go on to produce a movie credited with kickstarting the American travel craze to the island and to manage resorts catering to such visitors. But he also questioned just how long this paradise would last. 
Roosevelt wrote in 1930 that he couldn’t “stand idly by” and watch the impending “destruction” of Bali from the inevitable “invasion” of Western sightseers and holidaymakers. Among other recommendations, he suggested the Balinese government impose “a head tax on all tourists.”
The idea of a tourist tax to combat the challenges of overtourism dates back to the 17th century though didn’t really take hold, beyond a few places like Bhutan in the 1970s, until recent years. Bali eventually took Roosevelt’s recommendation in 2024.
The Bali of today is perhaps a realization of both the dream and nightmare Roosevelt envisioned a century ago. It’s indeed become one of the world’s top destinations, enchanting troves of visitors year after year with its picturesque beaches and lush nature, vibrant culture and leisurely atmosphere, and relative affordability for a lifestyle of luxury. But it’s also a perennial observation that those very visitors are, by their presence en masse, changing the place and stripping it of its exotic charm.
“Every intruder on the island quickly registers its palm-fringed beaches, magical dances and golden native beauties out of Gauguin and then remarks that all these delights are being corrupted by a camera-toting crush of alien surfers, satyrs and souvenir hunters. The single most changeless feature of Bali, indeed, is this litany of laments,” wrote essayist Pico Iyer in TIME—in 1986.
Bali’s foreign visitors represent at once both its primary economic driver and its biggest headache. Unruly tourists have caused traffic jams and public commotions, offended local sensibilities, trashed the environment, and desecrated sacred sites. They also account for 60-70% of its regional GDP, according to 2019 estimates—an outsized share compared to the national tourism sector, which represents about 5% of Indonesia’s GDP.
It’s a conundrum that the local government has yet to solve—but not for lack of trying.
Bali saw 6.33 million international visitors last year—surpassing its pre-pandemic peak of 6.28 million in 2019 and representing nearly half of the country’s total 2024 visitors. But it still wants more.
The head of the provincial tourism office, Tjok Bagus Pemayun, set a target in January of 6.5 million visitors in 2025. But he also acknowledged that such a feat would exacerbate the challenges of overtourism that the island of population 4.4 million already faces.
The problem, Pemayun said, was that the rules in place to keep tourists in check weren’t being enforced: “We will start to carry out law enforcement measures because, in terms of regulations, the tourism players think they are already complete. What is left to do is the implementation and synchronization.”
Earlier this week, island Governor Wayan Koster, who returned to office last February, announced that he would set out to do just that: updating a list of dos and don’ts that had been tucked into visitors’ passports since 2023. (Do: dress appropriately at religious and sacred sites and ceremonies, obey traffic laws, stay at licensed accommodations, and avail of licensed tour guides. Don’t: trespass sacred areas, litter, climb sacred trees or monuments, behave disrespectfully such as swearing, or use single-use plastics.)
“As things change, we need to adapt,” said Koster when making the announcement, which was made ahead of the Balinese New Year on March 29, a local celebration marked by silence and meditation.
The only modifications: noting that the approximately $9 tourist levy introduced in February 2024 is in fact mandatory, and upping enforcement mechanisms for broader compliance with the rules.
Going by the 318 billion Indonesian rupiah (around $19 million) collected last year, only around a third of the foreign Bali visitors paid the tourist fee—even though a tourism police force, the Bali Civil Service Police Unit or Satpol PP, had been formed partly to check that visitors had made the online payment.
Going forward, tourists who do not pay the levy, Koster said, will be denied access to attractions, and violators of the other rules will face legal consequences in accordance with Indonesian law, such as fines, jail time, or deportation. (Last year, Bali police prosecuted 226 foreign nationals, including 34 Americans.) Bali’s Satpol PP will be in charge of ensuring compliance, Koster said, while the Bali Police will take legal action against serious offenders. Koster also urged the public to report on any instance of nuisance or illegal behavior.
Niluh Djelantik, an Indonesian senator and Balinese native who has gained prominence in recent years as the go-to person for dealing with miscreant tourists, tells TIME that she believes some foreigners have treated Indonesia “like the Wild Wild West”—even when the country as a whole has a slew of morality- or religious-based laws—because of the varying degrees of enforcement throughout the archipelago. For example, sex outside marriage is outlawed in Indonesia but unenforced for tourists in Bali because local authorities don’t want to put off Western visitors. But that doesn’t mean the island is lawless.
“There are some other tourists who have probably decided that in Indonesia, they can do anything they want,” Djelantik described. She suggests that a historic perception of corruption in the nation may have played a role in the steady desecration of Bali. (Indonesia ranked 99th among 180 countries and territories assessed in Transparency International’s Corruption Index last year.) Balinese authorities in particular have been reported to receive bribes and extort tourists to overlook infractions—a practice the national police is seeking to crack down on.
Other measures are being weighed to stop the unruliness. Last year, Indonesia suspended the construction of new hotels in parts of the island destination, amid fears of overdevelopment and inviting more visitors.
And in 2023, Koster issued a development plan for Bali’s next century from 2025 to 2125 that acknowledged—for the first time by Balinese authorities, according to a Channel News Asia (CNA) report—the impacts of overtourism on the island.
But not all measures have come to pass smoothly. In March 2023, Koster announced that tourists would be banned from riding motorcycles following a series of accidents and traffic violations, but it was never fully implemented—however, Koster plans to bring the policy back to rental businesses’ dismay. In May 2023, Koster announced an immediate ban on all tourist visits to Bali’s 22 sacred mountains, though CNA reported that activities continued and the ban is “as good as axed.” And in January 2024, a steep entertainment tax on services by karaoke bars, spas, and nightclubs had been proposed, though that was scrapped the next month after backlash from local businesses.
In the end, the most promising measure to address Bali’s tourist problem, some believe, is the tourist tax, though it may need to be even higher—prohibitively so for some—to have the desired effect. “One of the concerns is that Bali is being sold as a cheap tourist destination,” Pemayun told CNA last year. “Hopefully, we can minimize that so we can do better for Bali in future.” Wayan Puspa Negara, chairman of the Bali Marginal Tourism Actors Alliance, similarly told local news organization The Bali Sun in February that “it’s time for Bali to move towards quality tourism by strengthening the quality of the destination and human resources.”
Bali is certainly not the only global destination strained by overtourism. Last July, Barcelona residents made headlines for squirting water at visitors in protest of their city being overrun. Indonesia’s then-tourism minister, Sandiaga Uno, warned in September that if Bali saw a 10% increase in tourists, it could soon see the same kind of local frustration boil over. “We must avoid a situation like Barcelona, where tourists became public enemies,” he said. But that 10% threshold was more than met by 2024’s foreign visitor record—a 20% increase from 2023.
It’s led some to question the compatibility of the goal to increase international arrivals this year to 6.5 million—200,000 more than 2024—with the desire to stem the issues of overtourism. “Are we talking only about the number in terms of more tourists, meaning more income—income for who? More tourists meaning more prosperity—prosperity for who?” asks Djelantik.
