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Published: October 21st 2008
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A lonely tree
This is the view from the front of our hotel. Greetings to all!
We left Bali early Thursday morning and headed east by boat to the Gili islands, located just off the coast of neighboring Lombok.
In doing so we faced a Locksian dilemma (Goldie, not John), requiring us to choose one of three distinct islands: the uber-mellow Gili Air, the somewhat livelier Gili Meno, or the more freewheeling atmosphere of Gili Trawangan (known as Gili T). Reports of great diving, cheap food and drink, and more reliable electricity eventually swayed us towards Gili T.
We decided to travel via the fast boat, which advertised a two-hour crossing powered by its "900 Horsepower!!!" engines, rather than the slow (read: lame) boat, which takes six hours. Despite our high expectations, our boat did not resemble the one from the opening credits of Miami Vice, nor did we get to stand on deck with the sea air billowing through our pastel clothing. Instead, all twenty passengers had to remain below deck, and the ride was decidedly uncomfortable as we bounced from wave to wave at 30-miles an hour with the windows closed to prevent the spray from pouring in; our captain eased off the throttle only once, giving in to
Jub Afloat
Ahhhhhhh ... demonstrating his natural buoyancy the frantic pleadings of the sole passenger who dared venture forward to the WC.
Since arriving, we've found Gili T to be an amazing island retreat, ringed by white sand beaches, crystal clear turquoise water and pristine coral reefs. Historically a small fishing outpost, the local fisherman are now paid not to fish through a "reef tax" levied on scuba and snorkel activities--thus preserving the aquatic splendor of the area. We decided to experience this splendor by learning to scuba dive through a PADI open water certification course. After a morning spent learning the basics in a pool, we ventured into open water, where Jub quickly discovered that his DeJure-inhereted ears would not let him get below 20 feet, or about 30-feet from most of the action. Despite early worries about claustrophobia, Anna made it through the class, which she attributes in large part to the calming influence of Hannah, her Norwegian dive instructor (UFDA!). Returning after each dive, Anna reported eels, giant clams, multi-hued schools of fish, huge turtles and a 5-foot reef shark. She loves diving. And having passed a written test and made it safely back from the required depths, Anna is now officially "certified"--just like
Kevin Garnett.
As promised, there are a huge variety of tasty restaurants and small hotels here, an impressive feat since every single thing on the island has to be brought in by boats drawing no more than 4 feet of water, and then carried by hand, bike or donkey cart, as no motorized vehicles are allowed. Even freshwater is brought in this way because the island is arid nine months of the year and there is no fresh water source. The pools are all saltwater, and only a few places have fresh water showers--we've talked to people who've lived here for months and have had only saltwater showers since arriving. We found great lodging though at a place called Dream Village, which is operated by an Italian expat, who also takes care of the island's lone monkey, LuLu, who was left on the island by travelers years ago. In return, LuLu now acts as the mother for a blind cat and her kitten at the hotel, and spends the rest of her time trying to snatch sunglasses, bracelets and other items from passers-by.
The island's size and relative isolation lead to some notable pricing schemes. Having blown through
three bottles of sunscreen in two weeks, we went in search of more yesterday and were happy to find a store stocked with familiar brands, but shocked when the storeowner pointed to the small bottles of Banana Boat and deadpanned a price of $20 each. On cue, Jub stepped to the side and Anna, our cunning and highly successful lead negotiator, put on her game face. She pulled out all her big guns in the next few minutes, starting with her how-dare-you-insult-my-honor-with-that-price laugh, followed by a half-price counteroffer, which, upon rejection, was met with her patented someone-just-stabbed-me-in-the-side-with-a-rusty-knife face, and an immediate, nominally higher, counteroffer. But the shopkeeper wouldn't budge. Anna finally threatened to leave if our price was not met (which had so far worked 100% of the time), but the shopkeeper said, basically, "OK, and don't forget your flip-flops on the way out." We hit the main drag hard for the next twenty minutes, but everyone on the island had the same small bottles of sunscreen, and no one would go lower than $20. Jub tried some last minute tricks, including quoting lines from the Sherman Act, but to no avail. As a result, the formally thoughtless process of
applying sunscreen a few times a day has taken on a decidedly more reverential and ceremonious feel, not unlike covering yourself with gold-leaf.
On a cultural note, upon leaving Bali, we also left the only Hindu part of Indonesia, the vast majority of which is Muslim. We haven't noticed too much difference on Gili T, however, which may be the only place in the world where you can lie on the beach listening to the afternoon call for prayer along with multitudes of topless Eurpoean sunbathers.
On Tuesday we embark by sailboat to Flores, and then on to its more famous and dragony neighbor, Komodo. Once there, Anna's camera will be set for action shots as we try to get the most out of the substantial extra money we paid to Prudential Travel Insurance for dragon coverage. Stay tuned.
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P.K.
non-member comment
No Wonder...
Jub -- You look like you're floating in air about 6 feet *above* the water -- no wonder you couldn't dive! Much enjoying your blog -- and much envious... P.K.