Sol Beach Club: Skip the Crowds, Savor Oysters by the Pool as Sunset D

Wandering Canggu’s coast, Labrisa’s throngs always made me pause—not that it’s bad, but finding a spot to “dine with the sea in peace” felt impossible. Then a friend pointed to a white building near Sunday Market: “Try Sol.” That’s when I discovered this laid-back nook tucked into the buzz: fewer people, clearer views, and food so good, you’ll want to lick the plate clean. 🌴 Vibe Check: Two Floors, Two Kinds of Bliss Sol’s two levels feel like separate worlds: Ground floor: “Vibrant laziness.” A blue pool nestles by the beach, water clear enough to see white pebbles at the bottom. The DJ booth hides behind palm trees, spinning mellow house beats from 3 PM. Folks sip cocktails, feet dangling off poolside loungers, occasional waves nipping at ankles—cool and crisp. Second floor: “Sunset’s private seats.” A wooden deck perches high, unobstructed, framing the whole sea and distant volcanoes. We arrived early, snagged a railside spot, watching water shift from green to gradient blue. Sea breeze ruffled our hair, but we didn’t care to fix it. Friends warned, “Book ahead for prime views”—by 4 PM, the second floor filled up, with people hovering for spots. Pro tip: Some window booths have a minimum spend (around ¥200), but with this view? Worth it. After all, Labrisa’s so packed, you’d jostle just to stand for sunset. 🍴 Food Surprise: Canggu’s Best Meal—“Want to Pack It All Up” I’d assumed beach club food was “scenery with a side dish,” but Sol’s plates proved me wrong: Oysters two ways (p1): Absolute standout! Fried ones, coated in a light batter, crunch “crack” on first bite, oyster flesh tender as pudding, seasoned with salt and pepper—no greasiness. Raw ones? Even better: plump, briny, squeezed with lime, dipped in a zesty sauce. Even my friend, who avoids raw seafood, fought for the last one. Tomato meatballs: Served in a piping-hot earthen dish, meatballs bigger than ping-pong balls, swimming in rich tomato sauce. Bite in, and you’ll taste fine mince mixed with basil. Pair with slightly charred bread, sopping up sauce—carb joy, maxed. Grilled prawns: Each as long as your palm, shells blistered red, peeling off in one tug to reveal snowy, bouncy flesh. Charred edges carry smoky spice, so good we sucked every last bit from the shells. Even the fries impressed—crunchy outside, fluffy inside, dusted with chili powder that hinted at lemongrass. Sipping ice-cold beer, sea breeze in my hair, I thought: “This is Canggu done right.” As sunset sank into the sea, string lights on the second floor flickered on, merging with distant stars. Patting my full stomach, walking back past Sunday Market’s buzz, I got Sol’s charm: it hides in the chaos but isn’t swallowed by it. Here, you can laze by the pool, savor oyster sweetness, and let sunset’s softness seep in—truly tasting “vacation.” If you’re in Canggu, craving less crowd, more flavor, and front-row sunset? Sol’s a must. Places that serve up “quiet, delicious, sun-drenched” all at once? Rare as a perfect wave. #CangguBali #SolBeachClub #CangguHiddenBeaches #BaliFoodie #BeachfrontDining