It is a curious truth of our age, dear reader, that certain souls are born with a singular talent for complicating their own existence. One observes it in the drawing rooms of London and, as it happens, upon the shores of Bali. There is a particular sort of modern 'traveler'—a creature of whims and digital vanity—who believes the world to be but a stage for his own amusement, oblivious to the fact that the curtain may fall with a most resounding thud.

Consider, if you will, the unfortunate case of a young gentleman from Switzerland, one Mr. Lucian Andrin Zgraggen. This poor soul, possessed by the spirit of modern impudence, decided that the 'Day of Silence'—a most solemn Hindu observance known as Nyepi—was an occasion for a spirited stroll upon the beach and a series of boastful proclamations to the ether of the internet. He termed the sacred tradition 'madness' and adorned his speech with the sort of vocabulary one expects from a dockworker rather than a tourist.

Alas, the local authorities were not amused by this display of philistinism. While in former times such a breach of etiquette might have resulted in a stern reprimand or a hasty voyage home, the winds have shifted. Mr. Zgraggen now finds himself sentenced to a full year of incarceration. He pleaded that he was merely hungry and bewildered—a defense as flimsy as a cheap lace parasol in a monsoon—but the court, citing a new and rigorous Penal Code, remained unmoved.

One must wonder, where does this appetite for scandal end? The authorities in Indonesia have become most vigilant. It is no longer merely a matter of missing a prayer; it is a matter of law. The gentlemen of the courts now cast a keen eye upon the following transgressions:

The public mockery of faith, temples, or sacred rites;

The encouragement of others to ignore religious decrees;

The publication of images brimming with hatred or coarse language;

The dissemination of materials of a... suggestive* nature.

Furthermore, those 'bloggers'—a breed of professional idlers who believe a free hotel room is a fair exchange for a few photographs—should be warned. To work under the guise of a tourist's visa is viewed as a most distasteful deception, and the law is quick to punish such mercantile trickery.

For those who delight in risking their liberty, the price of such folly is steep indeed:

Five years' imprisonment for the insult of religious sentiments;

Six years' imprisonment for violations of electronic information laws;

Twelve years' imprisonment and a fine of some 6 billion rupiahs for the capture of scandalous, sexualized content.

Should a gentleman find himself entangled in such a legal web, the advice is quite traditional: secure a solicitor immediately, summon the consul, and for heaven's sake, do not sign any parchment whose contents you do not comprehend. A humble apology may soften the judge's heart, but in matters of narcotics or moral turpitude, one cannot simply buy one's way out with a box of chocolates.

Indeed, the annals of Bali are now littered with the ghosts of deported tourists. We recall the Polish citizens cast out for ignoring the silence, the Russians who danced with inappropriate vigor in a temple, and that singular individual who thought it a grand idea to photograph himself with trousers lowered upon the sacred Mount Agung. There was even a Canadian gentleman who performed a ritual dance in the nude upon Mount Batur—a display of 'culture' that the authorities found entirely too revealing.

It seems the era of the carefree excursion is waning. One may still visit the tropics, but one must do so with the grace and discretion of a proper guest, lest the tropical sun be replaced by the grey walls of a cell.