Royal gardens and floating bridges

Some places in Bali seem made for slow wandering, and Taman Ujung Water Palace was one of those places for us. Also known as Ujung Water Palace or Taman Soekasada Ujung, its name is often translated as “Garden at the End” It appears to be a  fitting description for this peaceful royal retreat near Amlapura, where Bali’s eastern coastline seems to dissolve into sea and sky.

Spread across nearly 30 acres, the palace unfolds through manicured gardens, enormous reflecting ponds filled with koi and water lilies, and graceful white pavilions that appear to float on the water. Ornate bridges connect the buildings, creating a setting that feels elegant, dreamlike, and wonderfully removed from the busier parts of the island.

The palace was designed in 1909 by the King of Karangasem, Anak Agung Anglurah Ketut Karangasem. It served as a place of leisure, diplomacy, and royal ceremony.  It was intended as a retreat where the royal family could welcome foreign dignitaries and important guests in suitably impressive surroundings.

What immediately caught my attention was the palace’s distinctive mix of architectural styles. Traditional Balinese design blends with Dutch colonial elegance and Chinese decorative details, giving the estate a character entirely its own. White archways rise above still pools, pavilions rest like islands on the water, and stone guardians quietly watch over the grounds.

Taman Ujung has survived a difficult history. It was badly damaged by the eruption of Mount Agung in 1963 and again by a major earthquake in 1979. Careful restoration has since returned much of its former beauty, and today it remains one of East Bali’s most graceful historical landmarks.

Our walk began at one of the palace’s most memorable features: a grand bridge stretching across the lotus ponds. Crossing it immediately gave the visit a sense of ceremony.

To the right stood Gili Bale, or Island Pavilion, the elegant white building that once served as the residence of the King of Karangasem. Its symmetry and peaceful position over the water made it one of my favorite places to photograph.

On the opposite pond was Bale Kambang, the Floating Pavilion. Its design felt more open and welcoming, which suited its original purpose. This was where the king received guests, held meetings, and dined with visiting dignitaries.

Farther south, we found Bale Bengong. This small gazebo sits quietly in the middle of a pool, tucked behind lush greenery.  Slightly hidden and wonderfully peaceful, it feels like one of the palace’s secret corners. 

From there, we followed pathways lined with flowering frangipani, vivid bougainvillea, hibiscus, and beautifully maintained gardens. Koi moved beneath the surface of the ponds in flashes of color, weaving between clusters of water lilies and mirrored reflections. Along the water’s edge, sculptures of gods, guardians, and mythical creatures added to the palace’s dreamlike atmosphere.

Eventually, we began climbing the terraced stairways above the main grounds. With every level, the view changed. The geometric shapes of the ponds became clearer, the pavilions appeared smaller below us, and the surrounding landscape opened farther into the distance.

Our favorite spot was Bale Kapal, the Ship Pavilion, which stands in ruins at the highest point of the complex. There was something especially moving about its weathered stone arches opening directly to the sky. From there, the entire palace stretched out beneath us, with the blue Lombok Strait shimmering on one side and Mount Agung rising in the distance on the other.

It was timeless and breathtaking.

Taman Ujung is incredibly photogenic. Between the symmetrical bridges, glassy reflections, sweeping staircases, tropical flowers, and bright white palace walls, nearly every corner made me want to stop and reach for my camera. Because it was quieter than many of Bali’s better-known attractions, we had the space to linger, find the right angle, and simply enjoy the stillness.

Some places encourage you to see as much as possible in the shortest amount of time. Ujung Water Palace invites exactly the opposite.

It made me want to cross each bridge slowly, pause at the top of the stairs, and look out for just a little longer. It encouraged me to notice the flowers, the shifting reflections, the koi beneath the lilies, the weathered carvings, and the clouds moving across the water.

For me, visiting Taman Ujung wasn’t about checking another landmark off a list. It was about stepping into a softer rhythm for an afternoon.

And perhaps that is exactly what a royal retreat was always meant to offer.