I am castaway on a desert island. GIli Air is the most beautiful, peaceful place I have ever seen. But, this is low season, so the few hotels and beachfront restaurants are shut or half empty; only the tiny village ‘stalls’ for (very overpriced) basics, and no boats!
The inter island shuttles aren’t running, the fast boats are unpredictable, and no one has a clue what’s going on, if anything. There is a public boat to Gili Trawangan twice a day, one at 8.30am and one at 3pm. Hopefully when I leave on the 15th, the donkey and cart will get me to the jetty in time for the morning boat, as I have to get to Gili T for my transfer back at 10.30 and the price of a charter water taxi for the 20 min crossing is more than the ticket back to Bali.
But there is timelessness here, as if the real world has not yet arrived. The lack of any TV, little internet access bar the odd wi-fi cafes, and the sense that, certainly at this time of year, there are more locals than tourists, and the island goes about its business of being self-sufficient. There is cattle everywhere, chickens-and children-running wild, coconuts palms swaying in the wind. Fires burn everywhere, filling the air with smoke, going outside to use the bathroom reminds me of Lewes on Nov 5th.
As I write this in the evening, I have balanced on wooden slats to stand under the tap outside for a ‘shower’, chased away the cockroach back up into the thatched roof abut me, swept the bed clean of moths, mosquitoes and assorted debris thrown down by the ceiling fan, put the flashlight on in case the power cuts out, and sprayed myself liberally with as much mossie spray as my sunburnt skin will take.
It is incredibly hot here, and despite my best endeavours, I am a wee bit red, though it may be an allergy to the amount of insect repellent and afterbite necessary to survive here. Last week the monsoon rains fell, so while I’m glad to miss them, the after effects have left the island a mini rain forest.
But it is also incredibly, incredibly, beautiful. Today I mastered the art of relaxation, albeit by accepting that for me this means moving. So I walked around the entire island on the beach, along washed up coral, and gazing at the clear seas lapping on the reef. The low tide meant I could walk alongside the waving fronds of the living coral, and see fish/marine life in the shallows.
I’d love to be able to dive/snorkel, but my ear drum won’t take the pressure, and seeing the ‘walking wounded’ is a salutary lesson to be careful swimming in the sea here (I’ve happy in the little pool surrounded by flowers here, even if I do have to scoop out the wasps etc as I swim). Despite warnings of jellyfish/urchins/sharp coral, the few people here seem to fling themselves into the water wherever; and today I lost count of those nursing cuts, stings and urchin bites!
So I wandered along gazing down into the waters instead, taking refuge in the shade under the palms –alongside the cattle-and watching the blue and green shades shift in the sunlight.
It is quiet enough here for me to be now instantly recognised by the stall holders and villagers of the island, as I’ve cycled and walked continually-luckily the network of paths always end up on the beach somewhere, as I’ve gone round in a circle a far bit!
The ‘homo aquatics’ divers from my boat ride greet me with great ceremony-turns out I am a ‘gay icon’ now as I have muscles and am ‘very strong’ . ….!
Tonight the unusually clear blue sky (normally there’s a heat haze here) threw up a spectacular sunset. The very low tide reflected the suns rays long after it had disappeared behind the volcano of the neighbouring island, streaks of gold spreading across the darkening sea and sands. The stars here seem very bright with no light pollution, as if I could reach up and catch one. Staring up into the sky from the bathroom is certainly a unique experience!
The inter island shuttles aren’t running, the fast boats are unpredictable, and no one has a clue what’s going on, if anything. There is a public boat to Gili Trawangan twice a day, one at 8.30am and one at 3pm. Hopefully when I leave on the 15th, the donkey and cart will get me to the jetty in time for the morning boat, as I have to get to Gili T for my transfer back at 10.30 and the price of a charter water taxi for the 20 min crossing is more than the ticket back to Bali.
But there is timelessness here, as if the real world has not yet arrived. The lack of any TV, little internet access bar the odd wi-fi cafes, and the sense that, certainly at this time of year, there are more locals than tourists, and the island goes about its business of being self-sufficient. There is cattle everywhere, chickens-and children-running wild, coconuts palms swaying in the wind. Fires burn everywhere, filling the air with smoke, going outside to use the bathroom reminds me of Lewes on Nov 5th.
As I write this in the evening, I have balanced on wooden slats to stand under the tap outside for a ‘shower’, chased away the cockroach back up into the thatched roof abut me, swept the bed clean of moths, mosquitoes and assorted debris thrown down by the ceiling fan, put the flashlight on in case the power cuts out, and sprayed myself liberally with as much mossie spray as my sunburnt skin will take.
It is incredibly hot here, and despite my best endeavours, I am a wee bit red, though it may be an allergy to the amount of insect repellent and afterbite necessary to survive here. Last week the monsoon rains fell, so while I’m glad to miss them, the after effects have left the island a mini rain forest.
But it is also incredibly, incredibly, beautiful. Today I mastered the art of relaxation, albeit by accepting that for me this means moving. So I walked around the entire island on the beach, along washed up coral, and gazing at the clear seas lapping on the reef. The low tide meant I could walk alongside the waving fronds of the living coral, and see fish/marine life in the shallows.
I’d love to be able to dive/snorkel, but my ear drum won’t take the pressure, and seeing the ‘walking wounded’ is a salutary lesson to be careful swimming in the sea here (I’ve happy in the little pool surrounded by flowers here, even if I do have to scoop out the wasps etc as I swim). Despite warnings of jellyfish/urchins/sharp coral, the few people here seem to fling themselves into the water wherever; and today I lost count of those nursing cuts, stings and urchin bites!
So I wandered along gazing down into the waters instead, taking refuge in the shade under the palms –alongside the cattle-and watching the blue and green shades shift in the sunlight.
It is quiet enough here for me to be now instantly recognised by the stall holders and villagers of the island, as I’ve cycled and walked continually-luckily the network of paths always end up on the beach somewhere, as I’ve gone round in a circle a far bit!
The ‘homo aquatics’ divers from my boat ride greet me with great ceremony-turns out I am a ‘gay icon’ now as I have muscles and am ‘very strong’ . ….!
Tonight the unusually clear blue sky (normally there’s a heat haze here) threw up a spectacular sunset. The very low tide reflected the suns rays long after it had disappeared behind the volcano of the neighbouring island, streaks of gold spreading across the darkening sea and sands. The stars here seem very bright with no light pollution, as if I could reach up and catch one. Staring up into the sky from the bathroom is certainly a unique experience!
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| Lombok from the jetty as the sun is setting |
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| sunset on the shallows of the coral reef with volcano in background |
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