The farm has three bedrooms, originally built to house visiting chefs growing produce at the farm but now open to anyone interested in seeing rural Bali up close. We've taken The Bale, an enchanting thatched bungalow with its own bathroom (but no running water; it's hand-carted in) and wrap-around verandah standing on its own pineapple-studded hill. It's a five-minute walk through fields of carrots, rucola, fennel, lettuce, mangosteen, beans, mint and basil, across a creek bed where women are washing clothes and children are playing.

Former advertising executive Marjan van Ravenzwaaij from The Netherlands and her Balinese husband, Wayan Sukerta, opened the farm to show tourists a more authentic side of Bali. "It's about being in nature and connecting to the traditions and people of Bali," van Ravenzwaaij says. "And because it's organic, the food of course is very important."

Sukerta, who is from a fishing and farming family, has a background in hospitality and surfing. The couple are working with the farming families in the village to help them earn more. "The main problem for the farmers is marketing, finance and planning. We are educating the farmers that they can grow Western produce and still grow local products," says van Ravenzwaaij.

The volcanic activity in Bali makes for fertile soil - and hot springs.

In the evening, as we walk through a paddy to the hot springs, Dodi, the farm manager, tells me his community was settled generations ago by the indigenous Aga people. His relatives fled a volcanic eruption at Kintamani, in northeast Bali, and found land higher up in the hills of Munduk Lumbang - higher than the water supply, making for a hard existence.

The farm's owners are focusing their attention on the infrastructure in the village. One plan is to build modest bungalows for travellers in family compounds.

We take a dip in one of two communal pools, then soak in a private stone-lined bath overlooking a small creek.

If we were more energetic, we could take a bike ride through the rice fields of Jati Luwih, go hiking in the nearby hills, visit a temple or simply see what's cooking in the kitchen.

Sukerta cooks for guests using ingredients from the farm and the sea. He often heads down to the coastal Seseh area to see what he can catch himself. "It's a marriage of the ocean and the farm," he says.

Tonight it's fish and chips for the kids, and for me an amazing crab soup followed by a tender lobster ("This is your lucky day! We don't normally have lobster," Sukerta says) with mashed potatoes and cream sauce, along with fresh vegetables - carrots, beans, fennel and okra. For dessert, we have bananas, coconut ice cream and chocolate sauce. It's a meal that wouldn't be out of place in one of Bali's top restaurants.

Later, the children catch noisy frogs in the pond with a few local girls who've come to play. Sukerta sets up a fire to toast marshmallows.

The moon is rising. The air is crisp. This is a world we could get used to.

S
The Bale costs 1.5 million rupiah (HK$1,167) plus taxes and high season surcharge per night for two adults, with a minimum two-night stay, full board.

It's about a 90-minute drive from Seminyak by motorbike or car. The road is not well maintained.