Gili Gili Gili

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In French, that's the way you say “tickle tickle tickle” (or kootchee-koo) and that's kind of what the Gili Islands do to you. “Gili” means island, so here I'm referring to Gili Trawangan, Gili Meno and Gili Air, three tiny islands off the coast of Lombok. I'm on Trawangan. Just across the sea Lombok's hills crouch at the water's edge, sere brown and dotted sparsely dark trees at one end, then flowing back in ridges and low peaks bearded in green vegetation.

After Kuta's frenzy and madness, this is reeeeeee-laaaaaaaaxed, even though Trawangan is the most party-friendly of the three. You could walk around the perimeter of this island in an hour or two.

It's a narrow sand beach with a fringe of grey coral washed up by the waves, the usual turquoise sea, palm and mango trees, thatched roofs and bamboo walls. The village comprises about a dozen streets. The island has a ring road - a cobblestoned path - along which trot blue horse-drawn carts with visitors and their suitcases or backpacks. A third of the cobbles are missing and another third are broken, but no matter, we're not here to inspect the roadworks.

The hotels along the beach are upscale, with freshwater swimming pools and candle-light dinner tables. Between are dive centres, restaurants and low-key bars. One of the places even advertises “bloody fresh magic mushrooms”. Dive or snorkel during the day, lay back and zonk out in the evening.

There's always a breeze blowing, so the fierce sun is really tolerable and the sea after Thailand and Malaysia is surprisingly cool although not unpleasant.

The Indonesians here are welcoming. This is village mentality in a tourist setting. They'll say Hi to you even though they've never seen you before, a big and friendly smile sunshining out of their faces at you.

Diving here is fairly good. You go out in narrow boats with outriggers on both sides, powered along by motor (paddles resigned to the store-room or the fire), backsplash into the sea and sink into the blue submarine world of slow motion and slow drifting. Saw big, green turtles chewing up the coral on the seabed and black-and-white striped sea snakes. Saw octopus, cuttlefish, parrotfish and a load of others, including those little neon-blue guys that flit here and there when you approach.

In the evening it's dinner on the beach, or in cheaper places behind, up dirt streets that are barely lit by the occasional bulb, then hang out in a bar. Two seem popular. One has a DJ, the other offers live music. Or you can choose something more low-key (the mushroom place if you want). Or just back to your room. Mine's spartan, but clean and cheerful and the couple who run it, Suta and Song, have named it after their daughter, Lisa. They learn your name immediately and it really does feel like a homestay. It looks like they've converted the garden behind their home by building a four-room guest house. Bed, overhead fan, large bathroom with shower, sink and toilet. That's it. They scrub it well and it's all in good shape and you feel so welcome here you hardly want to leave.

One of my neighbours says she's been stuck here for nine days, unable to decide to move on. I'd better keep moving or my feet will begin to sink into the sand....

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Photos

Anna and Magrita
Dutch girls in an Irish bar on an Indonesian island.