There are a lot of cafes in Ubud.

Like, a lot.

Some are surrounded by rice fields. Some have beautiful architecture. Some become famous on social media almost overnight.

But when someone asks me about my favorite cafes in Ubud, there’s one small place that always comes to mind.

Decafo.

It’s not a huge cafe with dozens of tables or an elaborate interior designed to impress you the moment you walk in.

It’s actually quite small.

And maybe that’s exactly why I like it.

It Started With a Rainy TikTok Video

Funny enough, I discovered Decafo the way we discover almost everything nowadays.

TikTok.

I remember scrolling through my For You Page when a video of this little cafe appeared. I don’t remember who posted it, but I remember the weather.

It was raining.

Through the video, the cafe looked incredibly cozy and homey, almost like someone had turned a small living room into a coffee shop.

Something about it stayed in my head.

So eventually, in 2024, I went there for the first time with my friend Bayu and his older sister, Melva.

And yes, it was just as small as it looked online.

But not in a bad way.

I’ve been to small cafes where the limited space makes you immediately feel cramped or stuffy. Decafo somehow doesn’t give me that feeling.

Instead, it feels intimate.

Warm.

Welcoming.

Like you’ve walked into someone’s living room and they’ve casually asked if you’d like some coffee and cake.

The Two People Whose Names I Still Don’t Know

Another thing I immediately noticed was the service.

There were two people working there during my early visits: a man with glasses and a woman with short hair.

They were both incredibly welcoming and accommodating.

And here’s the funny part.

I’ve been coming back to Decafo for years now, and I still don’t know their names.

I don’t think they know mine either.

We’ve somehow skipped that entire stage of human interaction.

Instead, we just call each other Kak.

For anyone unfamiliar with Indonesian culture, kak is short for kakak, literally meaning older brother or sister. But in everyday conversation, we also use it as a friendly and respectful way of addressing someone around our age, especially when we don’t know their name.

So that’s basically our relationship.

No names.

Just Kak.

And somehow, it works.

Whenever I return, they’ll recognize me and ask:

“Apa kabar?”

How are you?

It’s such a small interaction, but I think that’s part of why Decafo eventually stopped feeling like a cafe I simply liked.

It became familiar.

A Little Living Room With Ghibli Energy

The interior is probably one of my favorite things about Decafo.

It has this classic living-room feeling with warm furniture, books, small decorations, and cute Studio Ghibli figurines scattered around the space.

Every time I walk inside, my brain somehow combines three different Ghibli worlds.

A little bit of Kiki’s Delivery Service.

A little bit of My Neighbor Totoro.

And somehow, a little bit of When Marnie Was There.

Not necessarily because Decafo is trying to recreate any particular scene.

It’s more about the feeling.

Quiet.

Warm.

Slightly nostalgic.

The kind of space where doing absolutely nothing for an hour suddenly feels like a perfectly reasonable plan.

There are also books available to read, which makes the cafe even more inviting if you’re visiting alone.

Order something.

Pick a book.

Find a comfortable seat.

Stay for a while.

That’s Decafo.

Come for Coffee, Stay for Whatever Cake They Made Today

And then there are the cakes.

One thing I love about Decafo is that you don’t necessarily know exactly what you’ll find in the display every time you visit.

They make different cakes, which means returning can come with a little surprise.

Unfortunately, the universe has repeatedly decided that I do not deserve their strawberry matcha cake.

I’ve seen it.

I’ve wanted it.

I still haven’t managed to get it.

One day.

During my first visit with Bayu and Melva, we ordered a cake that had orange in it.

Was it orange cake?

Orange something?

Honestly, I don’t remember.

What I do remember is the texture.

It was soft and airy, with just enough sweetness without becoming overwhelming.

Basically, I forgot the name but remembered the feeling.

Which is probably a compliment.

We paired it with a matcha latte and another drink that I remember having a Biscoff biscuit with it.

Was it a Biscoff latte?

Chocolate latte?

Again, 2024 Fery apparently wasn’t taking proper tasting notes.

But everything worked together.

And apparently it worked well enough because that first visit definitely wasn’t my last.

And Then I Became a Regular

After that, Decafo slowly became one of those places I’d try to visit whenever I happened to be around Ubud.

Not every week.

Not on some strict routine.

Just whenever the opportunity appeared.

And I think that’s my favorite kind of regular.

Sometimes I would go specifically because I wanted Decafo.

Other times I’d already be somewhere around Ubud and think:

Well… I’m here anyway.

Then somehow I’d end up back in that little living room.

Over time, the staff started recognizing me.

The “Apa kabar?” started happening.

I’d look at whatever cake happened to be available that day.

I’d order a drink.

Sit down.

And settle in.

There isn’t really some dramatic reason why I keep returning.

It’s simply comfortable.

The Salt Bread Era

When I visited again in April 2026, Decafo had salt bread.

If you’ve been cafe-hopping around Bali lately, you’ve probably noticed salt bread appearing everywhere.

And naturally, I had to try theirs.

It was really good.

Soft, light, not oily, but surprisingly filling.

That’s something I appreciate about Decafo in general.

Their pastries and cakes don’t feel like they’re there simply because cafes are expected to have something in the display case.

They’re part of the reason I’d actually come back.

Although, Decafo, if you’re reading this:

I am still waiting for my strawberry matcha cake.

Please coordinate with my schedule.

Thank you.

Small Space, Small Considerations

Of course, part of Decafo’s charm also comes with an obvious limitation.

It’s small.

When several tables are occupied, the space can fill up quickly.

Personally, I don’t mind that. I actually think making the cafe significantly bigger would change some of the intimacy I like about it.

But it does mean I’d recommend checking with the team before making a special trip there, particularly if you’re visiting with other people.

You don’t necessarily need to turn a casual cafe visit into a formal reservation.

Just send them a message and ask whether it’s busy or whether seating is available.

Save yourself the disappointment.

And please don’t arrive at a tiny cafe during its busiest hour, discover that it’s full, and then punish the place with an angry Google review because the building refused to magically expand for you.

The cafe is small.

That’s not exactly a secret.

There is another small thing worth remembering.

Because everyone shares the same intimate space, be mindful of your volume.

Conversations are completely normal.

But if you need to take a long phone call or join a meeting, I’d personally step outside.

The cozy atmosphere works because everyone gets to enjoy it.

Why I Keep Coming Back

I could recommend Decafo because of its cakes.

Or the coffee.

Or the salt bread.

Or the books.

Or the Ghibli figurines.

And yes, all of those things are part of it.

But I think the real reason I keep coming back is simpler.

Decafo feels familiar.

In a place like Ubud, where there’s always another new cafe waiting to be discovered, familiarity can sometimes be more valuable than novelty.

I like knowing what it feels like when I walk through the door.

I like wondering what cake they’ve made that day.

I like sitting somewhere comfortable with a drink and a book nearby.

I like being greeted with “Apa kabar?” by two people whose names I somehow still don’t know.

And I like that after discovering Decafo through a random rainy TikTok video in 2024, I’m still finding reasons to return years later.

Maybe one day we’ll finally introduce ourselves properly.

Or maybe we’ll continue calling each other Kak forever.

Honestly, I’m okay with either.

Just save me a slice of that strawberry matcha cake.