This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Aniqah Bhatnagar, 29, a single living in Hong Kong. Her words have been edited for length and clarity.
I was 28 and fed up with the dating scene. Swiping had become a ritual of ghosting, small talk, and scheduling conflicts.
I work in business development for a US law firm in Hong Kong and was chasing a promotion, so it was easy to tell myself romance could wait. Then, one night, a casual scroll on Instagram inspired me to try something different.
I’d been following Nabila Ismail — the travel influencer behind Dose of Travel Club (DOTC), with over 193,000 followers — when she posted about a new Bali trip called Desi Love Island.
Something about it clicked. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in me, or maybe just the part craving sun, chaos, and adventure. I wasn’t alone; the post racked up more than 90,000 views and 1,300 likes. Before I knew it, I was filling out an application asking about my personality type, love language, and relationship goals.
My friends sent memes calling me “the main character.” My parents were supportive but cautious. I told my dad before he passed away a few months later — and while I like to think he’s watching over me, for that particular week, I kind of hoped he wasn’t too closely.
Provided by Aniqah Bhatnagar
I applied in February and didn’t hear back for weeks
DOTC hosts over 20 group trips a year, but the Desi Island retreat was its first to bring together South Asian singles. The company’s offerings aren’t all about dating. Next on the calendar, there’s a women-only adventure in Morocco and a cultural deep dive in Japan.
When the acceptance email for the Bali trip landed in my inbox, I was excited. The eight-day retreat cost about 22,000 Hong Kong dollars, or $2,800, covering a shared villa, activities, and most meals.
While DOTC trips are designed for South Asians, I wasn’t going in with rigid expectations. I’m not set on having a South Asian partner, but I do want someone who embraces the culture.
Landing in Bali felt surreal
Seventy South Asian singles from around the world — London, Singapore, New York, Melbourne — gathered in tropical villas with pools and matching welcome kits. The first night set the tone: a sunset cocktail party, curated playlists, and a host briefing that made it clear this wasn’t a typical group trip.
My villa mates, Nikita and Ish, quickly became my confidantes, while Amrita, whom I’d met on the flight, turned into a close friend. Romantically, there were sparks with a couple of people, but the friendships formed faster. One guy — an engineer from Australia — turned out to be a better friend, and we’re still in touch.
Provided by Aniqah Bhatnagar
Each day had its own highlight: rafting, floating breakfasts, a glitzy club night, a boat trip to Nusa Lembongan, and quad-biking through Ubud’s rice terraces. After the chaos, the villas became sanctuaries — we’d huddle over instant noodles, trading gossip about who was “coupled up.”
Those noodle-fueled nights were my favorite part.
It wasn’t all sunsets and smoothies. With seventy singles, emotions ran high; a misread text or rumored hookup could shift the group’s energy. There were flirty moments, awkward ones, and a few heartbreaks. It felt like an accelerated version of modern dating.
Provided by Aniqah Bhatnagar
I didn’t find love in Bali
A big part of the reason was that many of us lived in different countries. I was already aware that long-distance relationships — especially in the early stages — can be tough. I found that the distance made it hard to take things further.
But the week made me more open-minded about dating and less fixated on outcomes. I realized that connection doesn’t always have to be romantic.
A few of us have stayed in touch — one of the girls, Anjali, even came to visit me back home — and those friendships outlasted the flirtations. That, to me, feels like a win.
I’m proud that I said yes to something completely out of my comfort zone. I may not have met “the one,” but I had an insanely fun week in a beautiful place and met some genuinely kind, fascinating people I hope to keep in my life for years to come.
Would I do it again? Probably not. But I’d recommend it to anyone curious. I wouldn’t say no to a reunion.
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