The people of Bali want justice. But what they need are full bars and hotels

Eye witness: Return to Bali ... on the eve of the trial of the chief suspect in the bombing which left 202 dead

Frangipani petals float in the exquisite rock pool carved out of a terraced hillside that tumbles down to a dazzling white beach at the Four Seasons Resort in Jimbaran Bay. In the lush gardens, amid the bougainvillea and banyan trees, waterfalls babble. The ultra-discreet, sumptuously carved Balinese villas each have a private plunge pool and spectacular views of the bay.

It is all quite fabulous, but the place is practically deserted. The Four Seasons, haunt of film stars and twice rated best resort in the world by glossy travel magazines, is afflicted by the same disease as the rest of Bali: a dearth of visitors. Three-quarters of the exclusive villas stand empty; the resort is still charging £400 a night but is offering special packages that include a third night free.

For the island's tourism industry is in deep depression following the terrorist bomb that killed 202 people, mainly foreigners, at the Sari nightclub in Kuta Beach last October.

Tomorrow a Javanese mechanic called Amrozi goes on trial in Denpasar, the provincial capital, the first suspect to be brought to account over the attack. While locals are eager to see justice done, the trial will do little to ease their economic plight. Before the bomb, nearly 5,000 people arrived on the island daily. In April, with the Iraq war and Sars epidemic exacerbating Bali's woes, the figure dropped to just 1,800.

With nearly 80 per cent of local people dependent on tourism, the situation is dire indeed. Poverty levels have risen dramatically, and many hotel and restaurant staff have returned to their villages to eke out a living growing rice or coffee. Businesses have gone to the wall and beach traders jostle pathetically for a few thousand rupiah (20p) from the straggle of foreigners.

Visitors of every kind are staying away, from the celebrities who frequent the luxury resorts at Nusa Dua to the package tourists of Kuta and the hippies seeking tranquillity in the mountains of Ubud.

At Jimbaran Bay, a sweeping white crescent in southern Bali famous for its gorgeous sunsets, the entire micro-economy is affected. With hotels and resorts struggling to attract guests, there are empty tables at the long string of beachfront seafood warung (restaurants) where diners are caressed by a gentle sea breeze as they feast on fish barbecued over coconut husks.

"Before the bomb, it was very busy," said Made Kariyasa, a waiter at the Nyoman Café, the oldest on the strip, which serves up groper, prawns and lobster for 45,000 rupiah (£3) a kilo. "Since the bomb, it is very, very quiet. Business is down by maybe 75 per cent." Mr Kariyasa said he feared for his job unless the tourists returned in June and July, traditionally high season in Bali. "I hope they will come back," he said. "I have to be optimistic. It would be very hard for me to get another job. The economy is broken."

The warung are suffering, which means hard times for traders at the fish market in Kedonganan, a village at the northern end of Jimbaran Bay. The market, one of the best in Bali, supplies the local restaurants and hotels. "My income is very shaky right now," said Naim, fanning the flies away from his fish: glistening rows of tuna and snapper displayed in white polystyrene boxes. "Before the bomb, I was selling 200kg a day. Afterwards I can't even sell 100kg. I have to support a wife and two children. These are very difficult times."

Worst off, perhaps, are the Kedonganan fishermen who head out every evening in their brightly painted wooden boats and return at dawn with nets full of mackerel and baby sharks to sell to the market traders. Despite furiously discounting their catch, many were left with a surplus yesterday. "Catfish, 3,000 rupiah a kilo," chanted a woman in a conical hat, crouching over a banana leaf basket on the beach.

Everyone, without exception, blames the bombers for their predicament. They hope that Amrozi – who has confessed to buying the explosives and the white van that blew up outside the packed Sari Club – is convicted and sentenced to death, along with nearly three dozen other men arrested over the attack.

"I hope they kill him, because he killed so many Balinese people and people from outside," said Mr Kariyasa. "Before the bomb, Bali was 100 per cent good, but he came here and hurt so many people. I think the whole world was crying after the bomb."

He believes that death by firing squad, the customary method of execution in Indonesia, is too good for Amrozi. "Everyone in Bali would like to slice him up with a knife," he said, cutting the air viciously with his hand. "They want to carve a memorial to the dead people on his face and body."