Indonesia’s Most Haunted Modern Ruin: The Chilling Story of Bali’s Lost Plane

Perched incongruously beside a Dunkin’ Donuts on Bali’s bustling Ngurah Rai Bypass Road, the decaying fuselage of a Boeing 737-300 has become an unlikely landmark—and one of Indonesia’s most chilling modern ghost stories. Known locally as the "Lost Plane," this derelict aircraft blends failed ambition, tragic origins, and whispered supernatural encounters.

From Sky to Scrap: The Plane’s Tangible History

A Business Dream Crashes

In 2015, Jakarta entrepreneur Arif purchased the wrecked Sriwijaya Air aircraft (registration PK-CKM), which had been written off after a runway crash in Yogyakarta. His intention? Dismantling it into four shipping containers, hauling it 1,000 km to Bali, and reassembling it as part of an aviation-themed restaurant and flight simulator complex. Arif took on a 10-year lease of the land but lost money before doing any repairs. Now, it corrodes on concrete pillars, its wings brush against the roof of the donut store.

Life as a Tourist Curiosity

Full-time guardian Sulaiman now receives ~$3.50 per person from visitors to climb a bamboo ladder up into the hollow cabin. Graffiti decorates the walls within, and trash—blankets, boxes, rusted machinery—lies on the floor. As of 2018, 30+ tourists per day trudged through the carcass, though restoration plans were put on hold. Sulaiman's work is both security guard and ad hoc tour guide, a mundane contrast to the macabre air of the plane.

Ghostlore of the Fuselage: Whispers and Shadows

Echoes of Trauma

Natives believe that things connected to man-made catastrophe absorb spiritual residue. The gruesome impact of the plane crash in Yogyakarta and its "aborted mission" as a commercial venture are said to have left a to-be-completed resonance. Local vendors and guards tell of metallic groans, slamming doors with no wind, and ghostly apparitions sprinting past cabin windows at night.

Documented Apparitions

Late-night explorers trespassing into the plane report:

- A ghostly pilot apparition vanishing near the cockpit.

- Unexplained cold spots in the back galley, with ghostly smells of jet fuel.

- Aural perception of children's laughter from the empty cabin—maybe associated with its use as an unofficial playground by neighborhood children before Sulaiman's time.

Cultural Haunting Context

Abandoned places in Balinese Hinduism welcome bhutas (earth spirits). Having the plane wedged between a sacred banyan tree and a temple road adds to this feeling of unease. People sometimes leave canang sari (palm-leaf offerings) around its undercarriage to appease spirits drawn to its "desecrated" state.

Why This Site Resonates

Unlike Bali’s ancient temples or jungle ruins, the Lost Plane is a modern relic. Its decay clashes violently with the island’s paradise imagery—a monument to shattered dreams. The surreal juxtaposition of a Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru and a decaying jetliner deepens its uncanny power. As one blogger noted: "You won’t find this anywhere else. It’s legit. and awesome in its sadness".

Visiting Today: Between Tourism and Taboo

Through 2025, the aircraft remains standing, though corrosion advances. Sulaiman continues to charge admission, but Balinese residents warn against visiting at sundown when "the boundary thins." As city adventurers rush through its ruin in the daylight, nights turn it into what Balinese secretly call a "kuburan besi" (iron grave).

Final Approach: Bali’s Lost Plane isn’t just metal—it’s a cultural Rorschach test. To historians, it’s a cautionary tale of failed tourism. To paranormal seekers, it’s a vortex of unresolved energy. And to Sulaiman? It’s just a job, punctuated by the clink of coins and the creak of a dying machine.