Indonesia - Bali and Gilis

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So, Tiger Airways. I know this sounds like the start of a previous blog entry. Unfortunately, this is a new one with the same beginning.
So, after Alex and Steve came to our rescue following the incident that will not be discussed, by putting us up for two weeks and spoiling us in Alex's case and mocking us, in Steve's, they topped it off by offering to drive us to the airport. Steve and I had shot a lot of nails into a lot of wood, and so it was decided that we would reach the airport via deck-almost-finished-cigars at Max Brenners. No chocolate pizzas this time but some hot chocolates and a cigar each for me and Steve, the master deckbuilders. We arrived at Melbourne airport in good time to catch our flight to Perth. As we pulled up Del joked about everyone keeping their fingers crossed for us. Then we noticed the woman in the fluorescent jacket approaching the car.
In an unprecedented move, Tiger Airways had been grounded for at least a week by the Australian equivalent of the Aviation Safety Board. Everywhere in Australia. Our flight out of Perth to Bali was scheduled to depart in three days. Tiger Airways had known about this since midnight that morning, but, true to form, they hadn't contacted us to let us know our flight had been cancelled.
We went to the counter. They were offering refunds, that was it. We completed procedures to 'queue' for a refund. The fluorescent jacketed woman out the front had said Jetstar and Virgin Australia were offering Tiger Airways passengers discounted tickets for $200 each. We went in search of them. Everyone who worked for Virgin Australia had gone home, there was a line of empty check-in desks. We then walked over to the next terminal to find Jetstar. There, we met a lady who will always inhabit a sweet spot in Del and I's heart. She heard our plight, she tried to find us a seat on a plane going to Perth, then she heard that we were flying with Jetstar from Perth to Bali a few days later.
“Did you want to go to Perth?”
“Um,” Del and I looked at each other. “Not especially, we're just transiting there.”
“OK,” she said. “We have a flight leaving from Melbourne to Bali on the same day. I'll just transfer you.”
Del and I looked at each other. She saw our faces.
“Is that OK?”
Del and I almost jumped over the counter. “That's great!”
“Good, all done,” she said, brightly. “Here is your ticket,” handing us what looked like a supermarket receipt, with well over a thousand dollars printed in bold at the bottom. She saw our eyes looking at it. It was more than we had in the bank by about a factor of three. “It's free,” she affirmed. Then leant in conspiratorially, “We're not really supposed to do it.”
“We love you,” we managed.
Five minutes later we were in Steve and Alex's car heading back to their house. (“Of course you can stay till Tuesday!” Thanks guys.) We each, in turn, held the receipt, touching it reverently every now and again.
“You free tomorrow to help finish the deck?” Asked Steve.

Jodie, for the third time, welcomed us into the office on Monday morning. She had managed to find us two more days work. Honestly, without some of the people we've met on the way or who knew us before and welcomed us into their homes, we really don't know how we would have managed. Although Australian fauna hadn't been especially kind to us during our stay, the Aussies we'd spent time with were first class people. We are both well aware of the debt we owe you all. Thank you. We can't wait to repay the million favours when you all come over to Switzerland/England/France. Come soon.




We're in the queue to go through security at Melbourne airport. It's Thursday afternoon. We get a call from Alex, who has just left work, asking how we're getting on. We're almost there but not believing it till we take off. Earlier the Jetstar counter had accepted our supermarket receipt without any perceptible surprise, although they must have been looking at the total down the bottom, thinking, “Jeez, these guys got screwed.”
A thrill of excitement, the first we had allowed ourselves for what seemed like a long time, passed through us as the plane left the tarmac in Melbourne. Bali, baby!


We arrive at Depensar around 11pm. Visas on arrival at $25US each. We're met by the driver of our transfer to our hotel in Padang Bai, about halfway up the east coast of Bali. Padang Bai is the main port to leave for the Gili islands, so we thought it the best place to try to get a cheap transfer and it seemed to be a place most people just pass through on their way to the Gilis and not stay, although it was recommended (by Travelfish; awesome resource for planning trips to Asia by the way) as a pleasant, quiet place for a few days.
The heat and humidity is wonderful after Melbourne. The transfer takes about an hour and a half, ranging over decent, tolerably lit and wide roads near the airport, to goat paths, potted by chasms, hacked out of the jungle by lost tourists only a few hours ago.
It's also our first introduction to driving in Indonesia and Asia as a whole. Several observations: 1) Scooters are THE way to move around, especially as you can fit all four members of your immediate family, pets, market produce and new wide-screen LCD TV on it AND SMS your mate at the same time. 2) Driving defensively is understood to mean change lanes, and I use the word 'lane' spuriously, as frequently and sharply as possible, to keep every other road user on their toes. 3) Like Antigua, the horn is a multi-purpose driving aid, readily taking the place of brakes, headlights and mirrors. 4) The 'lanes' painted on the road, are more like guidelines. I've driven in Italy, where they have a similar, 'open road' policy, but there, at least, I could guess that they were chiefly meant to stay predominantly on the right hand side of the road. In Indonesia, I'm still not sure. 5) Stray dogs have right of way.

We arrive, sweaty despite the air-conditioning of the mini-van, around 1.30am. Amazingly, the hotel was expecting us and showed us to our quite lovely room. We hit the sack after a very welcome shower.
The next day we wake up in Bali. The sun is shining, the frangipanis are in bloom, the heat is hot and the air is underwater. It's awesome, despite the humidity. We have breakfast in a nice, shaded, open-air seating area in the centre of the hotel complex. On three sides are the rooms and facing us, in this order, is; the bar, the pool, the street sellers, the road, the street sellers, the raised-covered platforms by the beach that I still haven't found the word for yet, and the beach.
Juni, not a character from the 1980s cartoon Dungeons and Dragons, but a very accommodating hostess, finds us and explains the different options for getting to the Gilis the next morning.
I should explain, before I go on, that the Gilis are three miniature islands just off the coast of Lombok, which is the next major island to the east of Bali. They're renowned for their beauty, laid-back vibe, example in point; there is no motorised transport on any of the three islands, and awesome underwater wildlife, including turtles. It was the turtles that we had most wanted to see since our friends Olivia and Simon, from Fiji and NZ, had raved about them and we had seen two in Fiji and fallen in love. Incidentally, the word 'Gili' is the Indonesian word for 'island' – so of course the Indonesians just use their names. In order of most distant from the Lombok coast; there's Gili Trawangan – the largest, most developed, most visited and most lively. Gili Meno – the smallest, most underdeveloped and most chilled out, and Gili Air – our first destination, the middle in size but closest to Lombok, with the most 'community feel'.
So, getting back to how to get there, remember this is high season so prices are through the roof. Fastest and most expensive option: The fastboat, of which there are plenty. Around 600,000 rupiah or $70US, one-way, one person. Nice I'm sure if you have the money, as it gets to the Gilis in just over and hour, apparently. The Perama boat, which is a converted fishing boat that seems to run at slightly odd times and be hard to find, takes four hours for $90US, one-way, for two. Or, the option we took, the slow boat. This comprises of: The (early) public ferry to Lembar, in Lombok – four hours. A bus from Membar to Bangsal harbour, via Marambak and the jungle – two hours. A public boat from Bangsal to the Gilis – from twenty minutes to an hour, depending on which Gili. This 'combination ticket' is at a negotiable price. We got it for 500,000 rupiah or $60US, both ways, both of us. We talked to people who had got it cheaper, but not by much, and more expensive, by quite a bit. Count on seven hours in good weather.
We spent the rest of the day exploring Padang Bai, which is a pleasant, small place, chilling on the beach, watching the boats in the bay and sampling fantastic Indonesian food at the guesthouse come restaurant down the road, called the Topi Inn – a place we would highly recommend. Despite kangaroo, the food in Australia wasn't overly amazing and it was expensive. Suddenly, fresh fish and all manner of weird and wonderful veg was back on the menu. All served with a large beer to share for $12US, all in.
The slow boat was, indeed, slow. It was also relatively uncomfortable and dirty. Loads of backpackers and locals took it. Only highlight of the trip were the wild macaques that litter the roadsides in the jungle on the top of the hills.
We arrived in Gili Air around 5pm and had a swim before dinner. We stayed at Gili Air Hotel, which was OK but, as we learnt later, grossly over-priced. The next day we stopped in at the dive shop affiliated to the hotel, Gili Air Divers and got to know the price of dives and some of the varied dive sites in the Gilis. We did a bit of shopping around and found that dive prices are standardised round the island at $370,000 rupiah, $43, which we thought was a bit steep but one of the primary reasons for going to the Gilis was the diving so we had to suck it up. We eventually did all our dives with Gili Air Divers, a professional, French-led outfit, who we liked and were good to us throughout our stay. For instance, the first day Celeste, one of the four owners, had invited us to go snorkelling with them on one of the dive sites they were going to that day, for free. Always in line for a bargain and keen to see how they would be organised, we went along and enjoyed some drift snorkelling along a coral bottom, despite losing my snorkel before I had even gotten off the boat. They also offered us a free transfer to Gili Meno, when the time came, which was kind of them.
In all, we did three dives each, around primarily Gili T and had a really great experience, diving on coral plateaus, generally 18m to 23m deep.. On one of the dives we swam with Green and Hawksbill Turtles, learning the difference between them – Greens are larger and have clean, beautiful shells, while Hawskbills have a hawks' bill-looking-beak and their shells are dirty, covered in sediment from their time spent digging around on the bottom. We came within only a few feet of a humungous Green Turtle, his shell as large as our dining room table (Del's favourite), and within touching distance of a sleeping Green, his head nestled under an umbrella coral (my favourite).
Other notables on our dives: A Spanish Mackerel, a cousin of the tuna, a huge silver fish, dinner for all the family, French and English sides, with leftovers for the next day; A Blue-spotted ray; a Moray Eel, thicker than my thigh; a lobster with antennas looking like a white, bony moustache, 3 feet wide; two white-tipped reef sharks, one of whom was pregnant, and; a wonderful cuttlefish, pulsing coloured bands down its body. Plus, squillions of fish that I can't remember the names of while writing this blog entry bouncing along on a local bus in Cambodia.
The only real benefit of the Gil Air Hotel was that it was directly opposite the best snorkelling site in the Gilis and certainly the best we've done since Fiji. Really, in terms of the sheer variety and multitude of fish, the only real difference between snorkelling in Fiji and Indonesia was the currents in Indonesia, which can be very strong indeed, so much so that snorkelling plans had to be shelved on several days as it was just too tough to enter the water and the visibility was too poor to merit the effort. Del and I spent many hours swimming and snorkelling this area, drifting with the current along the the east coast of Air and occasionally into the harbour. It was along this route that we swam with a Hawksbill Turtle on not one, but two occasions, only 15 metres off the beach.
Another time, around by the harbour, around dusk, we spotted two Lionfish at the mouth of a crevice in the coral. Lionfish are the beautiful purple and white ribboned, spiked, fish that seem to have ethereal fabric waving off them and are very poisonous. Hence, why our videos and photos of them are at a respectful distance. We also came across an odd-looking fish, that originally we thought was dead and decaying, resting on the sand, a few inches from Del's foot. We later, while looking at the fish reference books at the diveshop, found out it was an Indian Walkman, also poisonous. Very, in fact.
On both these occasions we were swimming with Pascal and Vania, a Swiss couple we had met on one of the dives. What great people! We four clicked immediately and they put themselves out at the very beginning by offering to write detailed notes for us on Cambodia and Vietnam, where we were headed next and they had just come from. It was also because of them that we checked out of the Gili Air Hotel, which was a whopping $47 a day, to where they were staying, a little local run collection of bungalows 50 metres or so behind the mainstrip, called Mawar, for 100,000 rupiyah or $12, for the same level of luxury but more friendly hosts, a better fan and a nicer bathroom, plus a goanna in the garden to keep the mice honest. We look forward to renewing our friendship with them when we get over to Switzerland. Through them I also realised that I love iced-coffee. At least the Nescafe mocha cans, anyway.
The best place to eat on Gili Air; the Zip Bar. We tried a few other places but Zip left them all behind. We will remember their tuna kebabs and Olah-Olah for a long time to come.
After a week of lots of swimming and eating good, fresh food and living the island lifestyle we left for Gili Meno. We were dropped off on a powdery white beach by Gili Air Divers and asked directions to our new pad, The Amber House, a Japanese run place in the north of the island. Five hundred metres up the road. I should point out that I could probably throw a cricket ball over Gili Meno east to west and so there really is only two directions anyone can give you; down (south) or up (north). Very occasionally, someone one might point into the interior of the island, but this is only a shortcut and the circular “road” will always take you where you need to be. The “road” of course is a misnomer because no motorised transport is allowed on any of the Gilis, so the “roads” are compacted sand from the tyre tracks and hoof marks of the horse-drawn tuk tuks. Boldly, we set out, refusing the offer of a horse and cart transfer as were eager to save some money. Let's just say we'll put it down to a learning experience. Midday, all our bags, no breeze, walking in sand. We collapsed into our room when we finally arrived, after a 500 metre walk that was closer to a mile on the surface of the sun. This was our first encounter with Asian walking distances; 500 metres can mean anywhere from 500 metres to a kilometre or 100 metres to, well, 500 metres.
We spent the rest of the day relaxing in our room and doing some quality sitting down on our shaded terrace, looking out over the lovely garden that led to the beach, not 20 (real) metres away. We also discovered a beach-side restaurant shack 100 metres “up the road”, run by some lovely locals and ate there every lunch we were on Gili Meno. Del even arranged an impromptu cooking lesson with one of the ladies there and we look forward to trialling our Olah-Olah on unsuspecting friends and family when we return. They also did the best coconut shake either of us have ever had. The coconut husks were piled high behind the shack.
One of the advantages Air has over Meno is that good food is never more than a short walk away. The same cannot quite be said of Meno. We had to walk most of the way back to our landing spot, to the village, every night to find some restaurants that served dinner. While far from as tear-inducing as the first time, it was a good ten minute walk, requiring a torch and Meno seems to not be as touched with cooling breezes as Air, so invariably we arrived at the restaurants a little sweaty. Also, fish is more expensive on Meno than on Air. It was a little hard to take, considering the water was never further than a hop, skip and a jump away, but it was explained by the locals that Air had better fishing than Meno and so supply and demand prices kicked in. To be honest, in our experience, the food was also better and there was more of it on Air. Never have I looked forward to breakfast quite so much as I did on those three days. I don't want to paint an unfair picture of Meno – the island is lovely, the locals friendly, the accommodation fairly priced and the food is good, even though you have to go in search of it a little. As you've probably guessed though, we liked Air more. We're glad we went to Meno; the snorkelling was excellent and it was as quiet as a beach holiday can get, but three days was enough. Whereas we could have spent those three days on Air, no problem.
The day to leave arrived and found us at the harbour that we had, until the day before, passed without noticing, mistakenly believing the restaurant on the beach where we arrived was the harbour. The key to finding it, apart from asking locals, were the four horse-drawn tuk tuks always waiting in the same spot. We inspired the pity of the locals as we slipped and crashed our way onto the boat that morning. Bless them, one of the guys jumped up and grabbed one of the backpacks for us and stowed it while I clung, unconvincingly, to the propeller. Of course, the propeller rotated and I almost lost the other rucksack. Del zigzaged like a pinball, with the other passengers acting like the cushions, eventually bringing her safely to rest in her seat. Two other Japanese girls saved our sandals and politely returned them halfway through the crossing once we realized neither of us had a clue where they were. Yes, we were so cool.
Apart from making idiots of ourselves while trying to board the local boat in the morning, the journey back to Padang Bai was only otherwise notable for meeting two nice Canadian girls who we spent an enjoyable few hours talking to on the bus and ferry. And, the quintessential idiot American surfer who was, amongst many other serious shortcomings, one of the most deluded young men I've ever seen. Note: Showing that you're 'studying' a How to Have Good Sex book to a girl you've only just met and who is annoyed that you exist anyway, and winking, is not the best way to entice her. Still more, advertising, in a needlessly loud voice, that your Dad gave it to you (equally as much of a tosser), that you're not much of a reader (oh, the surprise we all felt), that the Bintang beer (4% alcohol) you drank last night got you “shit drunk” and pretending to be deep in order to shag one of these two girls by stating that;
“Travelling has opened my eyes to so much.”
Canadian girl: “How long have you been travelling?”
“Six days.”
While all the while referring to the Canadian girls as “My fellow Americans”. But our joint favourite, (yes, we discussed him afterwards at length).
“I'm a musician.”
“Oh, nice, what kind of music do you play?”
“Reggae. Also a bit of Ska. Also a bit of rap.” This, from the whitest, most freckled, most ginger idiot to ever walk the Earth.
As a candidate for the Darwin Awards, and we all miss those, he would get my vote and I'm sure substantial backing from the two fellow American Canadian girls and Del, who at one point, I'm sure would have thrown him overboard had he looked at her in any way like he did the two Maples.
Idiot American fuckwits notwithstanding, (please don't get me wrong on this, there are lots of perfectly nice and softly spoken American travellers – he was just a knob) we arrived back in Padang Bai in decent shape, although that shower was so welcome. Off to the Topi Inn for a bowl of garlic peanuts and good food then bed in an air-conditioned room.
5a.m saw us getting into our transfer for the airport. 5.20 saw Del and I holding each other, in fear of our lives. Repeat at regular intervals till we arrived, shaken and stirred, at Denpasar, looking forward to Singapore and a different kind of Asian experience.

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Photos

Gili Air Blue Starfish
Earl's mate.

A public ferry
Like the one that goes from Penang Bai to Lembar in Lombok.

The beach in Penang Bai
The ferry terminal is just out of shot on the left.

The 'macro' sand of Penang Bai
Really large grains that stuck to everything.

looking through the roof of Topi Inn at the stars
The stars didn't come out in the photo but the sounds of the beach at night and the stars was a regular occurrence in Indonesia

Weaving walls
All walls in our accommodation was woven.

Monkeys on the side of the road
in Lombok, on the way to Bangsal Harbour where other monkeys awaited us.

View from breakfast back to Sunrise Hotel
The dive shop is on the left.

Breakfast with a view
This is also where we went snorkelling.