Tag Archives: Indonesia

Indonesia Part 1 – Bali

Despite what most people think, Bali is not a country, it is a province within Indonesia. We booked our accommodations at Pro Surf Camp right on Kuta Beach. I had surfed before for about 3 hours in Costa Rica but this was my chance to get past the white wash and into the green waves. In true hobo fashion I did not hire an instructor but instead my friend Hobo M (the third musketeer who flew in to meet us) taught me!

A few things I learned about surfing:

The conditions have to be right. Kuta beach has a sandy bottom (as oppose to coral which can cut you up) and it has beginner waves when the tide is in.
You need to learn to read the waves. You want to start paddling on your board at the correct time so that you a) don’t miss the wave by having it roll underneath you or b) don’t have the wave crash right on top of you. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way with point (b). I felt like I was in a washing machine and prayed my board wasn’t going to smoke me in the head.

When you take a wave, point your board away from the curl. The white wash on top of the wave will travel along the peak and as long as you stay a little ahead of the white wash you can keep riding the wave
Don’t panic! You are attached by a leash to your surfboard. You will always surface because your board will always bob to the top.
Surfing is addictive! It reminds me of snowboarding in the sense that it’s a solo sport with the social component of chilling with your friends while bobbing out in the Ocean until the perfect wave comes along. The moment you finally do catch that perfect wave is a feeling you want to chase again and again.

So essentially surfing a few times a day was our life for approximately 3 days. In between surfing we would find cheap places to eat, go for morning jogs on the beach, swim in the pool, or investigate other ways to spend our time in Indonesia. It was incredibly hot and humid in Bali during the dry season so other than some sort of water activity it was difficult to do too much in the mid-day heat.

Finally after a few days of searching around we decided to jump to the in-land town of Ubud. I didn’t know this at the time but Ubud is one setting in the book, “Eat, Pray, Love.” Although very touristy, this place had a more cultured feel to it than Kuta Beach. The town was scattered with temples and encircled by green rice paddies. Tourists enjoyed upscale health food and wheatgrass shots in nice restaurants while discussing the latest yoga move they’d learned and mulling over how in line their chakras were.

The three of us Hobos know the benefits of yoga and other zen-like exercises but we simply couldn’t bring ourselves to commit any time to it. We’re girls on the go so we embraced that by signing up for a Bike Tour through the rural rice paddies instead of downward dogging it in the middle of the humid town. The following day we were picked up and driven through the winding roads of the staggered mountain farm fields to have breakfast overlooking Mt. Bantur.

Following that we visited a coffee plantation where we sampled all sorts of coffee and tea including the exclusive-to-Indonesia Luwak Coffee. A Luwak is an animal found in tropical regions in South-East Asia but mainly in Indonesia. The animal eats the coffee flowers and beans but basically digests the bean still intact. So Luwak Coffee is coffee made from beans that have been excreted from the Luwak. It tastes slightly more bitter than normal coffee and is apparently a delicacy.

After we were well-caffeinated we hopped on our bikes and rode downhill for 25 km. We stopped in a village and had the chance to tour a typical Hindu house. The livings spaces houses many generations under one roof and every home has a specially built temple in the North-East corner because that is the closest spot to Mt. Bantur, the highest peak around, which means it is closer to the afterlife. We also stopped at a school, a rice paddy to watch how it is harvested, and a cock fighting ring. Apparently cock fighting is actually a ceremonial part of the Hindu religion but our guide admitted that it is often a hangout for the men to come on weekends and gamble on the roosters.

After our downhill stretch we had the option to bike ride uphill the last 8 km to lunch. The three of us are reasonably fit gals so we thought, “No Problem! Let’s do this!” while the others wisely took the air conditioned mini van to the lunch location. All I can say is we certainly earned our lunch that day. The intense heat and humidity of midday combined with a slight altitude made me almost vomit. The more frustrating part was our guide for that portion of the tour couldn’t have been more than 15 and he was riding uphill passing us with a smoke dangling from his mouth and barely breaking a sweat. I guess the locals are made for those conditions. We enjoyed a delicious feast of local Indonesian food and then headed home for a much needed cold shower.

After eating a dinner of jaffels and banana milkshakes at a spot advertising the cheapest food in town we turned in early to get a few hours of sleep before our next Ubud adventure, climbing Mt. Bantur! Our pick up was 1 in the morning and we were whisked off to the darkness of the countryside. Climbing in the dark can be tough for a few reason. Obviously it is difficult to see where you are going using just a small headlamp or flashlight aa your source of light. In the daytime you can set goals for yourself as you climb (EX: OK, I’m just going to make it up to that tree and then I’ll take a breather), but in the darkness you can’t do that. Lastly, in the dark there is no beautiful scenery to distract you from your beastly breathing. You simply need to put your head down, put one foot in front of the other, and trust that the view at the top will be worth all your hard work. And it was! The sun came up as a huge golden ball over the surrounding mountains and lake turning the sky into hues of brilliant orange and pink.

We were able to relax and enjoy the view with our boxed breakfasts at the summit of the mountain; that is, until the monkeys arrived! Now, I like monkeys as much as the next person but these ones were bold! I saw the evil monkey running towards us first and managed to grab my bag, but the poor German girl next to me was not that fast. Before we knew it the monkey was picking through the girls lunchbox. And it wasn’t just grabbing any food it could find, it was rummaging and selecting what it wanted! Eventually the monkey decided on the banana (no surprise there) and sat on the hill watching the sunrise like the rest of us casually eating the banana. You dared not to go near the monkeys because they were actually quite aggressive. The evil monkey then sifted through the remainder of the girl’s breakfast box and opted for the boiled egg followed by the bread. But the spoiled brat monkey left all the crusts. Later a smaller monkey came for the crust leftovers. The dozens of monkeys that seemed to have come out of nowhere were now in full attack mode and all the tourists were grabbing their bags and lunches in an attempt to save them. The monkeys had taken over! At one point I actually saw a monkey grab a water bottle out of someone’s hand, unscrew the cap, and chug the water as the thirsty tourist looked on in disappointment. Hobo M left her bag on the mountain and as Hobo L tried to grab it the monkey came at her!

All this was hilarious but it was enough to make us decide that we didn’t want to visit the Monkey Temple in the afternoon like we had originally planned. The Monkey Temple is basically an old temple overrun with monkeys in the middle of Ubud. We had seen our fair share of this Planet of the Apes scenario so we started making the decent down the lava rock mountain. The path was slippery due to all the lose rock so it was slow going but the volcanic surrounding scenery was amazing. Upon our return to Ubud we showered, checked out of our homestay, and caught a cab back to the western amenities of Kuta where we could gather our thoughts and plan out the next section of our journey.

Indonesia Part 3 – Java

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Backpacking through Indonesia was one of the most difficult countries I have ever travelled. Geographically, Indonesia is very long and skinny and dispersed into many different islands. There are lots of tours offering to take travelers to different parts of Indonesia but upon closer inspection and research these companies are often sketchy, unprofessional, and in this Hobo’s opinion, overpriced! We had a general idea of the places we wanted to visit in Indonesia but it would have been impossible to plan out the details of our trip from our laptops in Canada. There simply isn’t enough good information online.

Two and a half weeks into Indonesia we’d been yearning to make it to the mainland but kept hitting frustrating roadblocks with the logistics of it. Finally, Hobo M and I decided to stop trying to plan and just go for it! We booked a ticket with Garuda Indonesia Air this time, ($10 more for a better baggage weight, food, and it didn’t sound like we were riding a whipper snipper through the air) and headed off to Surabaya in the province of Java.

Farms on the main land.

We got to the tiny airport and picked up our bag which had been rummaged through. Jokes on them, my clothes reeked of dirty hippie and I carry anything of value in my small pack which stays strapped to my body. Our destination goal upon arrival was the small city of Malong. Had we not done some research before heading here, we would have been completely lost before we even got out of the airport. Fortunately, after sifting through hundreds of blogs and websites someone had posted information about getting from Surabaya Airport to Malong. It’s amazing that we trusted the information some random online person posted to take us to where we needed to go, but overall I think the travel community is pretty trustworthy. Also, we had no other information to go off of. I’ll pay it forward and repeat the information:

We ventured outside the busy airport avoiding the aggressive touts for a taxi and scanned the area for the Damri shuttle bus. We were on this bus for approximately one hour as it weaved through the busy traffic to the bus station. Now, bus stations are sketchy enough in developed countries but I can guarantee that those bus stations are first class limo services compared to the stations of developing countries. Trying to navigate signs in a foreign language while having people yell at you to get on their bus to who-knows-where, while carrying your luggage, and really having to pee is a complete nightmare. I would have taken a photo of the experience but I was afraid to take my camera out. We chose to spend the extra 10,000 rupiah ($1) to go with the “upscale” Patas bus to Malong. There is no ticket booth, you simply wander until you stumble upon the correct bus, toss your backpack underneath and pray that no one takes it, then get squished into a “seat”. We were some of the last ones to board the bus so Hobo M got stuck in a back seat which was supposed be for three people but had evolved to seating 6, one of which was a rather large, snoring man. After about 20 minutes Hobo M had enough of her makeshift seat and to the confused looks of the locals took up a lounging position on the bus floor. 3 hours later, just when we were convinced we had gotten on the wrong bus we pulled into the equally sketchy Malong bus station. From here, it was a quick cab ride to our final destination, Helios Hotel.

Hobo M opting to ride on the bus floor.

I had only spent 5 hours in Java, but one thing was for certain; this was real Indonesia. The infrastructure was older and more basic, the roads were clogged with honking scooters and cars everywhere, and the pollution was atrocious.

This man made his living by taking it upon himself to conduct traffic. Tour company cars would slip him $ as they passed to make sure they always get through the intersection first.

Our first goal after arriving in Malong was to find food. This proved to be much more difficult than we had anticipated. We followed the worst directions in history and found everywhere but the eating district. 2.5 hours and a few near meltdowns later, we stumbled upon a McDonalds of all things. I’m ashamed to admit that in the heart of true Indonesian culture I succumbed to eating dirty, greasy McDonalds. But I was starving and oh, so HANGRY (Anger caused by severe hunger). Upon asking for directions we also came upon a tour to take us to Mount Bromo. Perhaps it was the state of starvation and exhaustion talking; the price was right so we spontaneously booked it without doing any research.

Malong

The next morning, or should I say that evening we woke up for our midnight pickup. The 5 people plus the driver crammed into a rickety red jeep. We drove through the darkness up the twisting mountain roads which were about as sketchy as the jeep we were driving in. There were definitely no guard rails and the muddy roads were spattered with broken cement slabs and rocks. It was amazing that our driver was able to navigate the route in the dark, especially when we got to the base of Mount Bromo and all the other rusty jeeps were racing each other through the open grass fields.

Our chariot for the day.

We got to the viewing area very early: 3:00 in the morning to be exact. There was really no place to wander and we couldn’t see anything so Hobo M and I tried to sleep on a cold bench for a while. I’m not going to sugar coat it, we were very unimpressed with this part of the tour. The sun didn’t really rise over Mount Bromo in a romantic, awe-inspiring way one might imagine … it just sort of got light. There were tourists EVERYWHERE and the endless array of selfie sticks were being waved around like magician wands. It wasn’t calm and peaceful, people were shouting in all languages trying to get their friend to take a picture of them. Eventually after the crowds started dispersing Hobo M and I wandered to the edge for a better view. The scenery was magnificent when the view wasn’t blocked by hordes of other tourists. We snapped a few photos and left, slightly disappointed that we had lost half our night’s sleep over the “sunrise” event.

Sunrise view of Mount Bromo.

To our surprise, the day did get better though. We drove down a different path of winding roads and ended up at the base of Mount Bromo. Our guide suddenly stopped the jeep, pointed to the mountain, and said, “Walk, 1 hour”. So we did as we were told and wandered to the mountain and started strolling. There was a set of stairs but it was full of tourists so we went to the secluded side of the mountain and climbed up the black volcanic sand. We weren’t sure what would be at the top but to our astonishment there was a ledge about 2 meters wide and then a plummeting drop down into a smoking crater. It was a beautiful phenomenon; we were standing on the edge of a smoking volcano!

Hobo M hiking through the sand.

For the rest of the day we stopped at various scenic spots at the base of the volcanoes to admire the scenery before fighting the congested, dirty traffic back to the place we were staying.

Classic jumping picture.

After a really solid nap and shower we made a plan for the next few days and were much more successful in finding a restaurant for dinner. Outside the restaurant some teenage locals approached and told us they, “Need to talk to, uh, people like you for our English project.” Due to Hobo M’s job, she cannot be videotaped but as a teacher I felt compelled (and secretly a nerdy excitement) to assist these students. We must have been the only Westerners in town because once I agreed to help the students started calling all their friends and suddenly teenagers everywhere were showing up on scooters looking for the one Westerner who was willing to assist with their project. Basically, the project was for their English Conversation class so they just needed to be videotaped talking in English to someone who’s native language is English. It was actually lots of fun and by the end they had me proudly singing Oh Canada. Perhaps I’ll be an Indonesian youtube sensation in the near future, haha.

Helping the locals with their English projects.

The following morning we began the next leg of our journey. We were met at Helios Hotel by Mr. Dodo, who we would soon find out, would be the best tour guide we ever had. It was a long day of driving to our destination but we were in a comfy SUV instead of a falling apart jeep so we didn’t mind. 7 hours later with minimal stops we pulled into a secluded mountain town to hunker down at our homestay for the evening. The sleeping arrangements were as nice as they could have been for a town in a developing country kilometers away from anything else. And we were only slept there for a few hours anyway because we had another early wake up. Mr. Dodo fawned over us in the wee hours of the morning making sure we had some coffee and carefully presenting us with our packed breakfasts and bottles of water. It was an hour drive to Ijen Crater where we were met by a 17 year old boy, Rossit, who would be our guide. We were a little skeptical at first but this boy’s family had lived in the Ijen Village for years and his Dad was a miner and then a tour guide. He had a strong understanding of trail etiquette and had many more safety precautions put in place than all of the other guides we saw.

Our guide, Rossit.

We started the upward hike that lasted a few hours. When we got near the top Rossit stopped us and gave us gas masks. We laughed because we didn’t see any other tourists wearing full out breathing apparatus but we took the masks anyway. We think the masks were Mr. Dodo’s doing.

When we stood on the edge of the crater looking in, it was like we were on a different planet. There was smoke pluming and billowing into the night sky, the volcanic rocks looked like they belonged on the moon, and there was blue flames at the bottom of the crater. Blue Flames! They were BIG and a brilliant electric bright blue. I had never seen anything like this and probably never will again in my life. Unfortunately the photos didn’t turn out very well because it was dark and the wind would shift the smoke quickly, blocking the view of the flame. The landscape will be forever etched in my memory though.

My attempt to capture the blue flames in a photo.

We took care climbing down into the crater. Rossit was very respectful of the miners who carry minimum 100 lb. loads of sulphite in woven baskets on their shoulders up out of the crater and then down the side of the mountain to town. Both Hobo M and I tried to lift one of their baskets and failed miserably. They get paid the equivalent of 90 cents for a load of sulphite. The miners are SO strong and work for virtually nothing. I felt admiration for them but also sympathy.

A load of sulphite.

Avoiding the miners and allowing them to pass on the narrow path, we eventually made it to the bottom of the crater. We could see the bursting blue flames up close and admire how they danced across the sulphite. Rossit, being Muslim, took a few minute to go pray and then returned by our side. Suddenly Rossit perked up and tilted his head towards the sky, quickly shifting his view from left to right. He grabbed my hand and yelled, “Danger! Danger!” We weren’t sure if he was being overly dramatic or serious but we found out soon enough when a huge sulpher smoke cloud forcefully blew our way. We climbed as quickly as we could and I was so grateful that I had worn my silly gas mask. My eyes were burning and watering but I scrambled after Rossit’s path with Hobo M in tow. We finally reached an area where the smoke couldn’t get us and listened to the coughing and sputtering of the other tourists trying to retreat to safety as well.

Imagine this coming at you!?

After catching our breath, we trekked to the top of the crater to enjoy the stunning view that the crater had to offer now that the sun had risen. There was a striking turquoise lake in the bottom framed by the soft billowing of the sulphite smoke beside it. The blue flames were no longer visible, only the night hikers got to see them. The walk down the mountain was serene and peaceful.

The hike down amongst the miners.

Mr. Dodo was waiting for us at the bottom of the trek with tea and cookies. Once our energy was replenished we made the 2 hour drive to the harbor. Mr. Dodo purchased our ferry tickets for us, then walked us in directing us from a distance to make sure we got on the right boat. A true tour guide, right to the bitter end!

Back in Bali, Hobo M bartered hard for a taxi and we drove for 4 hours to the town of Seminyak, which is a few kilometers down the beach from Kuta (where we had been staying previously). We had scheduled in 3 days of rest, relaxation, and of course, surfing before we had to hop on our flights back to cold Canada. There was plenty of rest and relaxation, but unfortunately the surfing conditions had changed drastically while we were on the main land. The rainy season had come, which meant that the Ocean currents had shifted. This resulted in all of the garbage thrown in the Ocean near Java (on the mainland) was being washed up on the beach in Bali. Within a week, this beach had gone from a pristine, white sand, surfer’s paradise to a disappointing dump. There was so much garbage washed ashore that beach front hotels had to clean it up with rakes, as if they were raking autumn leaves every day. We tried surfing in the garbage water one day, but feeling pieces of god-knows-what brushing by your legs and arms was gross.

Garbage Beach.

We spent our last few days walking the beach, doing some Christmas shopping, relaxing by our hotel pool, eating delicious meals in bean bag chairs on the beach, and getting spa treatments such as a haircut and style, and fingernails and toenails painted for $12.50 total. It was a lovely way to end 100 days on the road.

My hair stylist kept saying, “I make you look like Movie Star!”

I wish I could say my flights had gone as smoothly as my last few days of travel but they did not. My flight to Seoul, South Korea was delayed. They came and found me on the plane and moved me up to the front to give me a fighting chance to make my connection back to Canada. I told myself this was excellent training for The Amazing Race Canada and with no shame I full out sprinted through the Incheon Airport. I was determined to get home to Hubby Hobo! I arrived at the gate as the last people were boarding and miraculously made my connection. Unfortunately, my luggage did not make it, but was delivered to me a few days later. Mother Nature gave me a nice welcome home by dumping the biggest winter snowstorm we’ve had this year on me when I arrived. “Welcome Home” – Love, Canada.

It’s chilly, but good to be home.

Overall, my 100 days of travel were some of the most fascinating, challenging, fun, and craziest days of my life. I learned that I am much stronger and more capable than I ever gave myself credit for. I learned that you don’t need many material possessions to be happy. I learned that the human race, as a whole, are really good people. And I learned just how BIG our planet is. There are so many places to go, things to learn, cultures to experience, and people to meet. You just need to make the effort to break outside of your bubble and see all that the world has to offer!

“Not all those who wander are lost.”

–> A special thank you to Hubby Hobo for fully supporting me in my crazy dreams of touring. I know you sacrificed much more than I did to make this happen. I am so lucky to have had the adventure of a life time and be able to come home to you patiently waiting for me at the airport with a supportive smile on your face. I Love You more than all the sand in the Namib Desert! XOXO Lots of Love, Your ridiculous, wandering wife – The High Class Hobo

Indonesia Part 2 – Lombok and Gili

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Upon our return from Ubud, we spent a few days at a camp on the beach continuing our quest to learn to surf as well as doing some of the touristy things that Bali had to offer. One of the tourist attractions was amazing and another was a bit of a disappointment.

Back to Pro Surf in Kuta Beach

Let’s start with the enjoyable attraction. Bali has a zoo, a really nice zoo! Hobo L and Hobo M are huge animal lovers we booked, “A Night at the Zoo.” … pretty self explanatory. We arrived around 5 and the first thing we did was visit a few animals that weren’t nocturnal. This included a giant, ugly clawed bird and a group of gorgeous elephants you could feed.

Evil bird plotting his escape.

Can you tell I’m not an animal person?

There is usually a group of orangutans but they were ironically on Christmas display at the BeachWalk mall in Kuta, a 10 minute walk from our surf camp. We also got the chance to hold/have awkwardly perched on us a yellow boa constrictor and a bearcat.

My “Get this Thing off me” smile

Hobo M braving the boa.

After ordering our choices for dinner we went on a walking night safari which was pretty cool because we saw all the nocturnal animals awake and active. We got to feed the monkeys and the Bali deer and see lots of other animals that are native to both Indonesia and surrounding Asian countries. After a few months of very basic meals, dinner was a highlight. Fresh arugala salad (that had to have been washed because I digested it properly!), a large steak dinner, and lemon tart pie for dessert. All topped off with an ice cold BinTang beer. While eating we could gaze at the nearby lions in their open concept cage or laugh at the trained porcupine that was running around by our feet. As our after dinner entertainment we witnessed a traditional dance followed by fire dancing! The whole event was very professional and was money well spent.

Mythological Indonesian Dance.

The next day was a bit of a disappointment. We went “White Water Rafting” down the Ayung River. I was really excited for this because I absolutely LOVE WhiteWater Rafting! I was aware that after rafting some of the best rapids in the world in Zambia, I might find these a little tame, but the Ayung River rafting was an insult to White Water Rafting. “Babbling Brook Float” would have been a more accurate name. Upon arrival we were given helmets and life jackets (not that we needed them) and essentially floated down a creek with a few wavy patches. This rafting was so pathetic that at points the bottom of our raft would actually get stuck on the rocks below. These were Class .5 rapids at the most.

Good friends make any situation better. 🙂

I’m really lucky I was with Hobo L and Hobo M because they saw how disappointed I was so they cracked jokes all the way down the river to cheer me up. The most exercise we got all day was hiking up the stairs at the end of the river float. There were three tiny highlights of the tour. One was the small gator that we saw swimming close to our raft, the other was the scenery that looked like it belonged in Jurassic Park, and the third was the buffet lunch that followed the “rafting”.

Floating down the River because we thought our guide was joking about the gators.

So after a win and a bust in Bali we cabbed it to the airport and bought a $34 ticket to the island of Lombok. The delayed plane sounded like a lawn mower and shook like an Earthquake but we made it! I would imagine that Lombok is what Bali was 20-30 years ago. The scenery is amazing and the island isn’t too built up yet. There were few tourists and it had a very laid back vibe to it. We scored a stunning hotel with a perfect location for a sweet price. The day after we arrived we decided we wanted to explore the island. What better way to do that than to rent $5 scooters! We were a little hesitant at first for a few reasons. A) We didn’t know where we were going. B) We weren’t sure how well maintained these scooters were. C) In Indonesia they drive on the left side of the road. D) Hobo L had never driven a scooter or motorcycle before. E) The helmets were in about the same condition as a 1940’s war helmet would have been. But those were all minor details, we’re capable women!

My sweet scooter ride.

We hopped on the scooters and carefully pulled out into the honking traffic. We slowly made our way out of town and up the hills of the winding roads. We didn’t get too far because we knew we had to stop for some fuel. We pulled off on the side of the road at a stand that looked like it was selling vodka bottles full of urine. But no, that is how the locals buy and sell their gas. We purchased a few litres and set off again, slowly gaining confidence and speed.

Indonesian gas station

The twisting hills following the coastline were stunning. It was difficult to stay concentrated on the road with such amazing views distracting us. We drove for hours and hours occasionally stopping to consult a map or ask the friendly locals where the heck we were. Our goal was to find Mount Rinjani which unfortunately we could not climb because the wet season had started. After one last piece of broken English directional advice we started our uphill scooter ascent feeling the weather get cooler and wetter as we rose in altitude. We drove as far as we could and after an inconclusive cloudy view of the mountain we made our way back down trying to remember the roads we had taken to get to our destination.

Hobo M exhibiting her navigational skills.

After hours on the road with no issues our confidence had skyrocketed. The trip back to the town of Senggigi, where we were staying, resembled a glorified go-kart race. There were no speed limit signs and just like the locals, we were pulling up behind cars and other scooters and laying on our horns until they let us pass. To the scooter owners surprise we returned the bikes at the latest possible time and told him that the three of us gals had made it all the way to the mountain and back. The only near injury we had was when a coconut flew of a truck and smoked Hobo M’s backpack. All in all, a solid day.

Stunning coastal views.

The next day we embraced the health and wellness scene that Lombok is known for. Our morning started with laps in our 50 meter infinity pool followed by smoothies, omelets, and bacon wrapped veggies at the complimentary hotel breakfast. We strolled to the beach then scouted out the best place for a massage. Our hour long incredible massage cost $6 and it was very professional. I also got my toenails and fingernails painted upping my spa bill to a whopping $8. Once feeling refined and relaxed we ate an authentic Italian dinner at a restaurant on the beach. It’s good that we had a day to unwind because the following day was a travel day again. We haggled hard for a taxi but had no luck and eventually caught a ride with some locals to get the harbor front. From there we bought a speedboat ticket that took us to Gili Trawangan Island.

The High Class Hobo and her belongings waiting to board the speedboat.

There are many Gili Islands off the coast of Lombok but the three most popular ones are Gili Air (the laid back island), Gili Meno (the honeymoon island) and Gili Trawangan (the party island). Gili Trawangan was beautiful but upon closer inspection parts of it looked used and abused… you could tell it was the party island. The main strip was fun. It had a plethora of bars, restaurants, dive spots, and hostels or small hotels. The roads were dirt or sand and no motor traffic was allowed so everyone rented bikes for their stay or took a horse drawn cart to their destination.

Transportation on Gili G

We stayed off the main drag but still on the beach on the North part of the island. Once settled, we opted for a snorkeling tour which also took us to the other two Gili islands. Although the tour ended up being slightly sketchy, the snorkeling was the best snorkeling I have ever experienced. The coral was still relatively intact and there were so many types of fish that I never even knew existed! We went to three different dive spots in the warm turquoise water. At one point we followed a graceful turtle until it disappeared into the darker blue of the deep waters. We literally spent hours floating around looking at the different colours and shapes of all fish!

After lunch we headed to our last dive spot but the winds and rain had suddenly started. Our boat forged ahead through the massive waves with people literally hanging on and letting out ashamed little yelps or screams when the boat rocked sideways to the point where you were afraid of falling out. A few of us tried to snorkel at the last spot but it was difficult because the waves would wash over you and fill your snorkel with water leaving you to breath in the salty H2O. Happy to be back on land we spent the remainder of the afternoon relaxing by the calm pool at our hotel. We ventured into town on our bikes for dinner and enjoyed some delightful Mexican food. After dinner it was an adventure attempting to ride our bikes back to the hotel in the dark. Since the North part of the island is not very developed the “roads” are still beach sand … not ideal for riding a bike. Instead we decided to cut through the interior of the island spotted with palm trees, local houses, fallen palm leaves, and some wandering cows. There are NO lights and the paths are not exactly easy to follow. After some unintentional off-roading and a near fall after hitting a tough coconut we safely made it back to the hotel. The next day we dedicated to exploring the island. The interior paths of the islands were much easier to navigate in the day time. We saw the huge corporate developments starting to build up the west side of the island. We saw a pile of plastic water bottles that must have been at least 10 m x 10 m. I have no idea how they dispose of all the waste. The island wasn’t equipped to deal with the consumption of all the island party-goers. It was actually quite sad.

Imagine cycling through this in the pitch black!

We decided to end our stay on Gili Trawangan by doing a bit of a market pub crawl. This basically consisted of us wandering down the strip and into the market eateries trying to find the cheapest beers and appetizers. The night ended with a beach walk all the way home to our hotel.

The following day we bought speedboat tickets back to Bali. The boat represented the culture of the island. They had a sun deck, loud speakers blasting out dance music, and of course, beer. Unfortunately, it rained on our parade (literally) and most people took cover below the sun deck. Hobo M and I stayed on top, the rain was warm so it didn’t bother us too much except for the sting of it pelting us in the face. It was worth staying above deck though because when our speedboat came to an abrupt slow down we had the perfect view of a huge whale just meters from our boat! It surfaced, blew the water out of its blow hole, paused as if investigating us for a minute, and then disappeared again back into the depths of the Ocean. Back at trusty Pro Surf in Bali we prepared for the sad departure of Hobo L and planned the last leg of our Indonesian journey. Stayed tuned for Indonesia Part 3 – Java!

Just in case you were looking to rent a speargun.

Indonesia Part 1 – Bali

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My free surf instructor – Hobo M.

A few things I learned about surfing:

The conditions have to be right. Kuta beach has a sandy bottom (as oppose to coral which can cut you up) and it has beginner waves when the tide is in.
You need to learn to read the waves. You want to start paddling on your board at the correct time so that you a) don’t miss the wave by having it roll underneath you or b) don’t have the wave crash right on top of you. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way with point (b). I felt like I was in a washing machine and prayed my board wasn’t going to smoke me in the head.

Learning the timing of the wave.

When you take a wave, point your board away from the curl. The white wash on top of the wave will travel along the peak and as long as you stay a little ahead of the white wash you can keep riding the wave
Don’t panic! You are attached by a leash to your surfboard. You will always surface because your board will always bob to the top.
Surfing is addictive! It reminds me of snowboarding in the sense that it’s a solo sport with the social component of chilling with your friends while bobbing out in the Ocean until the perfect wave comes along. The moment you finally do catch that perfect wave is a feeling you want to chase again and again.

Rice Paddies staggered on the hillside.

Our scenic breakfast view.

A Luwak eating some coffee beans.

Hobo M in the middle of the cock fighting arena.

This picture was taken before the uphill sweatfest.

Enjoying the view from 1,717 m.

A monkey enjoying a banana he selected from a tourists boxed breakfast.

A monkey enjoying a selectively stolen banana and taking in the view.

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