Gili

There is really no way I'd ever come to Southeast Asia and not find a nice warm beach to sink into.

I had heard from some friends that the Gili Islands, just off the coast of Lombok, are lovely and they had a backpacker brand of life that went on there. It sounded right up my ally.

So, although I was enjoying Bali, I needed to take my pilgrimage. I didn't know how long I would want to stay there, so I left Bali after only four days just so I was sure to have enough time on the beach. I'd return when I was sufficiently relaxed and golden brown.

Prices vary widely here. Negotiation is always necessary for just about everything. And transport is no exception.

Chad told me that he got a round trip from Ubud to Gili Trawangan on a fast boat for about 550,000 rupiah (about $60 USD). But when I asked around, travel agents kept saying, "you mean for one way?"

I managed to find a guy that would do the round trip for that much, but I had to wait to buy the ticket because the sea was rough from a storm the night before. But it calmed down, and at 7 am the next morning the van picked me up in front of Wardani's and zoomed a group of us down the mountain to the boat dock.

When I saw the boat, I suddenly remembered that I get sea sick, and that I didn't bring any Dramamine. The boat was smaller than I thought, and everyone had to sit down below.

Luckily, when I boarded, I sat down next to Helen, a nice young woman from Holland. More important than her origin though, was that she had extra Dramamine.

The boat ride was actually pretty smooth anyway and I managed to keep conversation and not fall dead asleep like I usually do with those pills.

After an hour or so, the boat rode right up on the sandy shore of Trawangan and we hopped down into the water up to our knees and wandered toward town through a forest of touts shouting "You need room?" Sometimes touts might take you to a nice place, but it's generally a better idea to walk a bit away from the place you get dropped off and find your own place.

After checking out a few, Helen and I found neighboring bungalows that seemed pretty nice for about $15 USD. They weren't air conditioned and didn't have hot water, but were otherwise pretty comfortable. Large, with private bathroom, fan, nice bed, and a front porch. The proprietor of the establishment, Easy Bungalows (about 500 meters east of the harbor), was true to his business name. Very mellow. Friendly. No frills. No hassles. He also seemed to run the miniature bar, Gili Boy, on the beach across the road, attached to a big tree with a hammock swinging next to it.

Trawangan has no motorized vehicles. No cars, trucks, or motorbikes. Nothing. It's refreshing to be free of the noise and smell of all that. Instead, folks walk or ride bicycles. And if you need to move some gear or a few friends, they have cidomos, tiny horse drawn taxis powered by ornate little ponies with sleigh bells attached to them. They don't have to honk to clear the way. You can hear them coming by the sound of Santa's eight tiny reindeer. "Ching, ching, ching, ching!"

After dropping my bags, I told Helen I'd meet her for dinner and took a stroll to see what the west end of the two kilometer island looked like. It got more and more beautiful as I got just outside town, with it's natural coral white sand and pretty blue water. The sun was starting to set and it made me want to stay out there, but I saw some dark clouds and heard some thunder so I figured I'd walk back toward home. But I wasn't too worried. I figured since the wind was blowing the other direction, the storm probably wasn't going to hit the island.

I was wrong.

I walked back to within a few minutes of my bungalow, and it hit. Like someone turned on a giant shower nozzle to full power, the rain sent everyone heading for cover. I ducked into a small store. I hadn't properly prepared for this. I didn't have my waterproof rain jacket with me, and I had a cloth backpack full of electronic stuff.

As I sat there for minute trying to figure out what my next move was, three local teenagers ran out into the sand road in front of me in their swim trunks holding bars of soap. They laughed and danced and soaped up their bodies and hair, happy to have the free shower. Smart.

The shop owner gave me a little plastic bag. I put my camera and phone in it, pulled off my shirt and flip flops, and stuffed it all in my pack, tucked it all under my arm, and ran for it. It was tougher than I thought. The water in the road was almost to my knee and I wasn't super sure where I lived. I had only seen it once after all. And the world all looked different now.

As I ran, I thought, maybe this beach vacation wasn't such a great idea after all. This rainy season business is for the birds (or fish?). But I made it to my place and peeled off my soaked-through shorts. I only had one other pair, and I knew this pair would take at least a day or two to dry.

Later I found the much smarter Helen who had taken shelter in a place with food and beer along with some friendly Spanish guys. Now that the rain had stopped, we got a chance to see what goes on here at night.

Even without motor vehicles, Trawangan isn't super quiet. It's bustling with people along the main beach-side road and at night it starts to pick up. Roadside restaurants and bars actively recruit customers and a few live music and dance spots begin to come alive.

I'd say the population is largely early twenties European and Australian folks and the businesses here cater to that demographic.

Drugs are hyper illegal in Indonesia, but for some reason here "magic mushroom shakes" are abundant and openly advertised, and since the Gilis are also devoid of any police, people seem generally less worried about real world laws.

Unfortunately for me, an avid vodka drinker, foreign liquor is outrageously expensive in Indonesia. A bottle of Absolut vodka is about $80 USD. That was a blow to discover, and rendered me practically Amish for the month since beer doesn't really agree with me all that well, and the cocktails with local booze are pretty watered down. Ah well. Probably better for me anyway.

The food here ranges from good to very good. They have traditional dishes like Nasi Goreng, western food, and best of all - super fresh seafood. I decided Scallywags was the best place I ate while on the island. Great selection of fresh seafood, nicely prepared. The funny thing about pricing here is that good food isn't priced much more than the mediocre. We ate one night at The Trawangan Resort, a brand new first class hotel at the far west end, and had a delicious tuna steak for about $5, about the same price as a similar dish I had at a mid range warung run by teenagers.

The next couple days were spent exploring the island by bicycle and searching for the perfect spot to sun and swim. The island can be completely circumnavigated on a bike in about 2 hours, and that includes walking it half the time because the sand is too deep.

The sunbathing actually proved a bit more complicated. It turns out throwing a towel down on the sand is a poor plan. Little sand flies pecked at my feet the first day and left me itchy and polka-dotted from the ankle down where I had been in contact with the sand.

Lounge chairs and shaded cabanas solved that problem, but the owners of said furniture fully expect you to patronize their establishments if you use them. A smoothie or beer will generally appease them for awhile, but it adds up.

And since you're near the equator here, shade is key. The sun can be brutal at mid day. One day on an organized snorkel trip, I made the rookie mistake of applying sunblock everywhere but my back - forgetting that the position one is in during snorkel makes one's back closely resemble a solar panel to the mid day sun. So after dropping that ball, I had a crispy sunburn that required careful sun management for next few days.

But the sun redeems itself each day on the far west beach by providing, by far, my favorite part of Trawangan - sunset. As the sun gets low, a healthy number of folks walks, bikes, or carriages out to a lone beach bar that plays music and serves drinks while folks pull up their chairs for the day's drive in movie. Somehow at that time of day, the water and the sky blend to precisely the same color. You can't tell where one ends and the other begins. The only clue is the occasional shadow from a small wave breaking on a distant reef. I have never seen anything like it. It's a lovely daily island ritual.

But don't wait too long after sunset to scurry to town or the mosquitoes will surely find you.

My favorite spot to go after a bite was the Sama Sama bar, a pub and live music venue. Every night the house band would serve up classic reggae and pop favorites with a rotating roster of surprisingly solid singers and musicians. It was one of those centers of town where both locals and visitors came to have a good time and socialize.

Trawangan is one of three Gili islands, and Gili Meno, one of the others, is so close it seems like you could swim to it. But the locals warn against it.

I read that the other islands are quieter. I wanted to see what they were like.

During the sunburn snorkel trip, we stopped for lunch on Gili Air. "Air" means water in Indonesian. Go figure. I took the opportunity to have a self-guided tour of the island to see if it was a place I might like to relocate.

I walked along a good portion of the coast checking out the accommodations, the crowd, and the beach. It was certainly quieter than Trawangan, but there were a number of places to hang out, so it seemed suitable in that way. But the beach was barely present. The water lapped right up to concrete steps or retaining walls in most spots. So I wasn't moved.... to move.

So after five enjoyable days in the Gilis, accruing sufficient sun damage and bug bites, I decided to head back to Bali to explore that island some more.

I considered trying to find some Dramamine for the ride home, but considering the ride was so smooth on the way in and the likely mark up on such an item would be heavy, I decided against it.

Big mistake.

The ride home was not smooth. The swells in the open sea on the way back were tremendous. The boat rocked side to side and forward and back. The fast boat hopped white caps, caught air, and slammed back down for a solid forty minutes. Luckily while boarding I had made a bee line for the seat near an open window. I was able to focus on the horizon and imagine that I was riding a motorcycle over some pleasant grassy hills. I knew if I lost focus, I would lose more than that. A girl two seats ahead of me confirmed that and filled a couple of plastic bags to prove it. It worked though. Although I wasn't comfortable at all, I did somehow, miraculously manage to avoid getting very nauseous. But boy was I glad to reach land again.

I hoped my Puffy villa was still available. I asked the driver to drop me at Wardani's, and sure enough, my villa was available for me. I negotiated a better rate than my previous stay, dropped my bags, and jumped in the pool.

I felt grateful to be back home in Ubud.