The Bali Visa Run Diaries: What Nobody Tells You About That Weekend in Singapore
The Beginning (or the Third Time Around)
I’m standing in Changi Airport at 6am, a lukewarm coffee in one hand and my passport in the other, wondering what my life has become. This is my third visa run this year. Third. There’s a German guy next to me with the same hollow-eyed expression, and I reckon we’re both asking ourselves the same question: how did “living in paradise” turn into a 48-hour logistics nightmare every few months?
Welcome to the Bali visa run — a peculiar ritual that’s somehow become as essential to expat life here as breakfast smoothies and overpriced wifi. You leave paradise on a Friday evening, you fight through airport queues on Saturday morning in a country that isn’t yours, and by Sunday night, you’re back on a plane, wondering if the whole thing actually happened. Spoiler: it did, and yes, you’ll probably do it again.
The reason? Indonesia’s B211A tourist visa gives you 30 days, but a lot of us digital nomads have stayed longer than intended. A visa run — popping out of Indonesia and back in again — resets that clock to zero. It’s bureaucratic theatre at its finest. And somehow, despite being exhausting and utterly ridiculous, it’s become weirdly embedded in the Bali expat experience. You haven’t really lived in Bali until you’ve done at least one visa run.
What a Visa Run Actually Is (And Why We Still Do Them)
Let’s be honest about what’s happening here. The Indonesian government doesn’t love visa runs. They tolerate them. The B211A tourist visa is designed for actual tourists — people who come, see the temples, and go home. But there are thousands of us who arrived on a tourist visa and... never quite left. Instead, we’ve become a whole economy unto ourselves: cafes, coworking spaces, digital agencies, all run by people on tourist visas who need to leave the country every 30-60 days and come straight back.
The thing is, getting long-term residential documentation in Indonesia isn’t impossible, but it’s glacially slow, expensive, or both. A proper work visa needs an employer to sponsor you. A spouse visa requires, well, a spouse. The KITAS (limited stay permit) can take months and tens of millions of rupiah. The E33G remote worker visa exists but takes weeks and still has bureaucratic quirks that send people into panic spirals on expat Facebook groups.
So visa runs became the workaround. Leave the country, re-enter, get another 30 days. Rinse, repeat. Every few months you’re doing this exhausting weekend thing, but it keeps you legal and it costs roughly £100–150 including flights. Compare that to actually changing your visa status? You’ll do the run.
The irony isn’t lost on us. We’re in Bali, paying to leave Bali, just so we can come straight back to Bali. It’s peak expat absurdity.
The Singapore Option (What You’ll Actually Do)
If you’re doing a Bali visa run, Singapore is the obvious choice. It’s only two hours away (compared to five+ hours to Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur). Cheap flights, direct connections, and enough stuff to do that you don’t go completely mental spending 36 hours in an airport hotel.
Here’s how a typical Singapore run breaks down:
Friday evening: Leave Bali at 4 pm, land in Singapore by 6 pm. Check into a mid-range hotel near Changi (Airbnb or hotels around £40–60 per night). Grab mediocre Thai food because that’s what’s nearby. Sleep.
Saturday: This is your buffer day. Walk around Marina Bay, pretend you’re enjoying yourself, definitely hit a mall because they’re aggressively nice in Singapore. Afternoon flight or ferry to Malaysia if you’re feeling spicy (more on that later). Most of us just... wander around. It’s boring, but it’s required.
Sunday: Early flight back to Bali (around 10 am–1 pm). Arrive back, feel weirdly emotional about being back in paradise despite having just left 30 hours ago. Check Instagram. See photos of yourself at Marina Bay, cringe slightly, and delete.
Cost: roughly £100–120 return flights from Bali to Singapore, £40–60 hotel, £20 food and taxis. Total: £160–200 for the privilege of sitting in an airport and trying to find reasons to leave your hotel.
The good: it’s quick, it’s straightforward, flights are frequent, and if immigration asks questions (rare but it happens), Singapore is boring enough to be believable as a destination.
The bad: you lose an entire weekend, you arrive back more tired than when you left, and the cost adds up. Three visa runs a year? That’s £600–£800 you could’ve spent on literally anything else.
The Alternatives: KL, Bangkok, and the One That Went Wrong
Some people get creative. Kuala Lumpur is the budget option — flights are sometimes cheaper, and Malaysia has enough going on that you can actually enjoy yourself. Street food is better, costs are lower, and there’s less of that sterile Singapore vibe. The downside? It’s 5+ hours away, you lose even more time, and you’re essentially taking a mini holiday (which is fun but defeats the whole efficiency thing).
Bangkok is the wild card. People love Bangkok. You can party, eat amazing food, it’s cheap. But it’s also a full day travel each way and there have been stories (mostly on expat Reddit threads) about people running into visa issues after multiple Bangkok runs. Immigration can clock patterns. Not that anyone’s been deported for visa running — that’s rare — but it’s the kind of thing that lives in the back of your head.
Then there’s the friend who got stopped at Bali immigration after his fourth run to Penang in five months. He missed his flight back, spent a night in a hostel, and came back looking absolutely haunted. He now does the Singapore run like everyone else. The lesson: don’t get too clever about it.
When It All Goes Wrong (And It Will, Eventually)
Here’s what they don’t tell you: immigration staff have bad days too. I’ve known people who’ve been pulled aside at the departure gate in Bali and asked detailed questions about their employment. Technically, tourists shouldn’t be working. Technically, none of this is supposed to happen. But here we are.
There’s also the logistical chaos. I’ve watched someone miss their flight back to Bali because Singapore’s traffic was absolutely mental. Another friend had a flight cancelled and spent 18 hours trying to find another one, sleeping in the airport, looking genuinely unhinged. The “I’m just here for the weekend” story started falling apart around hour 16.
And then there’s the creeping sense of paranoia. After your second visa run, you start Googling “Indonesia visa run rules 2026” at 11 pm. You check government websites. You ask in the Facebook groups. You read a post about someone getting their visa cancelled, and you lie awake thinking about it. It’s probably fine. It’s usually fine. But there’s always that chance it isn’t.
Is There a Better Way? The E33G and the Future of Visa Runs
The E33G remote worker visa launched in 2023, and there was genuine hope it would change everything. Finally, a legal framework for digital nomads to stay long-term without the gymnastics. The details: up to 60 days initially, renewable, costs around £150–200 for the whole thing, and you need to prove £1,500–2,000 monthly income.
But adoption has been slower than expected. The application process is still patchy depending on which immigration office you use. Some people got approved in weeks. Others waited three months. And there’s still this cultural reluctance — immigration staff aren’t always informed about it, and there’s a sense that it’s a bit too official, which somehow feels riskier than just doing the tourist visa run.
There’s also the social visa, which gives you 60 days and costs roughly £100. It’s technically for studying Indonesian culture or teaching English, but the visa itself is agnostic about what you actually do. Some people swear by it. Others say it’s becoming harder to renew. The information is fragmented, which is peak Indonesia.
The reality? Visa runs probably aren’t going anywhere soon. They’re inefficient, they’re absurd, but they’re predictable. Until the E33G becomes the obvious path for everyone (and it might, eventually), thousands of people will keep taking weekend trips out of the country just to come straight back. It’s not sustainable. It’s not sensible. But it works.
Visa Run Comparison Table
Destination Flight Time Return Cost Things to Do Best For Hassle Factor Singapore 2 hours £100–120 Marina Bay, Gardens, Museums, Shopping Efficiency, frequency Low Kuala Lumpur 5 hours £80–110 Street food, Petronas Towers, Night market Budget, mini-break Medium Bangkok 5+ hours £90–130 Everything, food, nightlife, temples Experience, weekend vibe Medium-High Penang 4 hours £70–100 Beach, Georgetown, food Budget + beach Low-Medium
The Affectionate Eye Roll
Here’s the thing nobody tells you until you’ve done a visa run: it becomes part of the rhythm. It’s exhausting and pointless and somehow… necessary. The Bali expat experience isn’t just lazy mornings and cheap cocktails and watching sunsets over rice fields (though it’s that too). It’s also this strange quarterly ritual of leaving paradise for 48 hours just to come back again.
You’ll sit in Changi Airport sipping the worst coffee of your life, looking around at all the other hollow-eyed expats doing the same thing, and you’ll feel this weird sense of kinship. You’re all doing something slightly mad. You’re all here because staying in Bali is worth the administrative theatre. You’re all going back to the same island, the same café, probably the same table.
Will I do another visa run? Yeah, probably. Not because I want to, but because I can’t think of a better alternative. It’s £200 and a lost weekend. It’s also the price of admission for living somewhere that keeps pulling you back despite the absurdity.
The visa run isn’t a sign that the system works. It’s a sign that we’ve all collectively decided to work around a system that doesn’t serve us. But somehow, that’s become part of what makes Bali feel like home. You leave paradise because you have to. You come back because you want to. Everything in between is just bureaucratic noise.
10 Questions People Actually Ask About Visa Runs
Is visa running illegal?
No, but it’s not officially encouraged. You’re leaving Indonesia legally and returning legally. The grey area is the intent — immigration knows what you’re doing. But there’s no specific law against it.
How many times can you visa run before it becomes a problem?
There’s no hard limit, but frequency matters. Once or twice a year? No one cares. Four times in six months? You might get a question. Every month? You’re being silly.
What if immigration asks why you keep coming back?
Tell the truth, basically. “I like Bali, I’m just here as a tourist, I’m looking at business opportunities.” Don’t overthink it. But also don’t have “digital marketing agency” in your LinkedIn while saying you’re a tourist.
Do I need to buy a return flight or can I just buy a one-way?
You can technically buy one-way, but airlines will ask for proof that you’re leaving that country eventually. Easiest just to book the round trip.
What’s the smartest destination for a visa run?
Singapore for speed, KL for budget, Bangkok if you want it to actually feel like a trip.
Can I get the E33G while already in Bali?
Yes, you can apply while on a tourist visa. But process time varies wildly.
What if my flight back gets cancelled?
You’ll need to rebook ASAP. Have travel insurance that covers this. Spend a night in an airport hotel if you have to. Don’t panic.
Will I actually enjoy being in Singapore for a weekend?
Maybe for the first time. After that, you’ll be going through the motions. It’s fine. Treat it as a reset button, not a holiday.
Is it obvious that I’m not a real tourist?
Probably to the immigration staff. Do they care? Not really. Unless you keep showing up every month.
Should I feel guilty about this?
No. You’re following the rules of the country you’re visiting. If those rules create inefficiencies, that’s not your problem to solve.
A note from Annie
Destined for Bali shares my personal experiences, opinions, and independent research. Everything I write reflects what I’ve found to be true at the time of publishing — but Bali changes constantly, and what works for me may not work for you. Always do your own research and seek qualified professional advice before making decisions about travel, visas, property, business, health, or anything else that matters. Some links in my posts are affiliate links, meaning I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Sponsored content is always clearly labelled. Read the full Terms and Privacy Policy.
⚠️ Important disclaimer — please read carefully
This article reflects my personal experience and independent research only. It is not legal, immigration, financial, tax, business, medical, or professional advice of any kind, and should not be relied on as such.
Indonesian laws, visa rules, property regulations, tax requirements, and safety conditions change frequently and vary depending on your nationality, circumstances, and timing. Mistakes in these areas can carry serious consequences — including financial loss, deportation, legal liability, or harm to your health and safety.
Before making any decision based on this article, you must consult a qualified, regulated professional appropriate to your situation — such as an Indonesian immigration agent, lawyer, notary (PPAT), accountant, doctor, or licensed operator. I accept no responsibility for any decisions or actions you take based on what you read here.
Some links may be affiliate links, meaning I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Sponsored content is clearly labelled. Full Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.

