Bali’s foreigner-only run club has discovered one annoying local custom: sovereignty
Two Dutch organisers built a “curated community” for nomads, reportedly filtered out Indonesians, blamed the algorithm and left for Singapore. Indonesia has now told them not to come back.
There are many ways to behave like an idiot abroad.
You can drive a scooter without a helmet. Climb something sacred for Instagram. Open a laptop in a café, order one coconut water and occupy the table until the staff change shifts.
Or, for the more ambitious expat, you can move to Bali, organise events on Indonesian soil, use Indonesian public spaces and then allegedly prevent Indonesians from joining.
That last option has proved surprisingly bad for business.
Two Dutch men behind Entourage Bali, a social and running community aimed at digital nomads, have been banned from re-entering Indonesia after authorities accused their organisation of discriminating against local residents and operating events without the necessary authorisation.
The men were officially identified only by their initials, JAS and HQV, aged 35 and 37. Indonesian and international media have reported that they are believed to be Entourage founders Joost Storms and Hidde van Vliet.
Their project marketed itself as a “curated social community” connecting travellers, expats and nomads through carefully selected experiences at some of Bali’s nicest locations.
Very curated, apparently.
The group became known for large early-morning runs, including a silent-disco event in Canggu in which participants jogged through the area wearing wireless headphones. Around 150 people reportedly joined one of the runs.
Then Indonesians started asking an awkward question:
Can we come too?
According to complaints shared online, the answer was frequently no.
One Indonesian woman, Annisa Rahmadani Maclean, said her application was delayed while her husband, who had a Western name and foreign telephone number, was accepted immediately. Other screenshots appeared to show applicants being questioned about whether they were Indonesian or Balinese before being rejected.
In one reported exchange, the club explained that its platform was for digital nomads and suggested that an automated system was responsible for the rejection.
Ah, yes. The algorithm.
The modern corporate equivalent of “the dog ate my homework”, only with a WhatsApp group and some light racial profiling.
Entourage later apologised and said that errors in its automated approval process had created a bias against some Indonesian numbers. It insisted that nationality did not define who qualified as a digital nomad and claimed Indonesians accounted for nearly 25 per cent of tickets sold for the silent-disco run. The organisation paused its activities and promised changes.
That defence may explain a technical failure. It does not explain why someone apparently designed a system capable of treating an Indonesian phone number as a reason for suspicion while operating a community in Indonesia.
Algorithms do not arrive from outer space.
Someone decides what they filter.
Someone defines the desirable user.
Someone looks at the resulting sea of foreign faces and decides the system is working perfectly well — right up until the screenshots go viral.
Indonesian immigration authorities were not amused.
Director General of Immigration Hendarsam Marantoko described the event as resembling “a state within a state” and said foreigners could not invent their own rules or establish exclusive structures inside Indonesian jurisdiction. Officials also alleged that the organisers had breached immigration or permit conditions by managing commercial events without proper authorisation.
By the time immigration officers moved against them, the two organisers had already left Bali for Singapore. They were subsequently placed on Indonesia’s entry-ban list.
The Daily Telegraph reported the case on 27 July, following coverage in Indonesian and Australian media.
And while the story is undeniably funny — two expats building an exclusive foreigners’ jogging club before having to run all the way to Singapore — it exposes something considerably uglier.
Welcome to Bali. Please remove the Balinese
Digital nomad culture likes to describe itself using words such as freedom, community, connection and authenticity.
These words usually appear beside photographs of laptops, infinity pools and suspiciously untouched smoothie bowls.
But in destinations overwhelmed by remote workers and lifestyle migrants, “community” can become a pleasant euphemism for segregation.
People relocate thousands of miles to experience another culture, then immediately construct a social environment in which they never have to encounter it.
They live in foreigner compounds, eat in foreigner restaurants, attend foreigner networking events, date other foreigners and join private chat groups devoted to finding the most “authentic” places before too many locals discover them.
The destination becomes a decorative background.
The local population provides the villas, food, roads, cleaners, drivers, temples, beaches and aesthetic atmosphere. But when it comes to entering the actual social circle, suddenly the community is “curated”.
This is not cultural exchange.
It is colonialism with better branding and worse trousers.
Of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with expatriates wanting to meet other newcomers. People moving to a foreign country often need friendship, practical advice and professional networks.
The problem begins when a network for foreigners turns into a network against locals.
Especially when it occupies public spaces.
Especially when it monetises activities.
And especially when its foreign organisers appear to forget that Bali is not an international coworking resort with a conveniently underpaid indigenous service team.
It is part of Indonesia.
Indonesians are not guest stars there.
Digital nomadism does not cancel immigration law
The other lesson is considerably less philosophical.
A digital nomad visa, residence permit or investor permit is not diplomatic immunity.
Foreigners cannot assume that calling something a “community” transforms an organised commercial operation into a harmless gathering of friends. If events involve sponsors, paid tickets, promotion, staff, partnerships or repeated use of public areas, local licensing and employment rules may apply.
Indonesian authorities said one organiser held a temporary stay permit linked to work and the other an investor permit. They nevertheless concluded that the activities warranted immigration sanctions and further investigation.
This is an important distinction for the remote-work crowd.
Being able to perform your ordinary foreign job from a laptop does not automatically authorise you to launch a local business, organise events, sell services or manage commercial activities in the country where you happen to be staying.
The palm trees do not invalidate the law.
Neither does putting “nomad” in your Instagram biography.
Indonesia has recently increased scrutiny of foreigners suspected of working or conducting commercial activities under inappropriate visa conditions. The Entourage case therefore arrived in an environment where authorities were already less inclined to treat expat entrepreneurial improvisation as adorable.
The apology nobody should need to write
Entourage said it was sorry and had never intended to disrespect or discriminate against anyone.
Possibly true.
But intention is a remarkably low standard.
Most forms of privileged stupidity are not accompanied by a strategic plan entitled How to Offend the Population of Our Host Country. They emerge from people becoming so comfortable inside their own bubble that they stop noticing the people outside it.
That appears to be the larger problem here.
Not simply that Indonesian applicants were allegedly rejected.
But that a group could operate in Bali, fill its promotional material with Bali, build its commercial attraction around Bali and still apparently design its membership experience around keeping a certain kind of Bali resident at arm’s length.
The authorities’ response may look severe to Europeans accustomed to lengthy consultations, carefully worded warnings and perhaps a modest administrative fine in 2029.
Indonesia chose a more concise communications strategy:
Leave.
And do not come back.
It is difficult to misunderstand.
Run anywhere. Just remember where you are
The irony is almost too perfect.
Entourage Bali sold connection but reportedly practised exclusion.
It promoted international community while allegedly filtering out the nationality of the country hosting it.
It organised running events for foreigners and eventually saw its founders make the most consequential run of all: to the airport.
The case should not become an excuse to treat every digital nomad as an entitled neo-colonialist. Many live responsibly, employ local professionals fairly, learn the language, follow the rules and understand that being welcomed somewhere is a privilege rather than an acquisition.
But the Entourage affair is a useful warning for the rest.
You are allowed to move abroad.
You are allowed to build friendships.
You are allowed to create communities and, with the proper permits, businesses.
You are not allowed to behave as though the country is merely a picturesque operating system for your lifestyle.
And when you organise a running club in Indonesia, admitting Indonesians really should not qualify as an advanced diversity initiative.
It is the bare minimum.
Based on reporting by Lily Shanagher for The Daily Telegraph, 27 July 2026, with additional reporting from ABC News Australia, Antara, Detik Bali and the Indonesian immigration authorities.