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Published: March 30th 2011
Hello and good afternoon (or
Selamat siang in Bahasi Indonesia)!
Apologies for the slightly behind schedule nature of this, my second blog, but I've been waiting for the right place to write it from...the right place being somewhere where internet access is cheap. And so, finally, at 20p an hour, I can recount my adventures of the last ten days or so...
Part 1 - Many Monkeys
When I last communicated, I was in Kuta on Bali. I can't remember exactly how I described it - 'lively,' probably, though Magaluf for Australians would really be more accurate. I stayed just long enough to go out a couple of times before running for the hills; specifically, I went to Ubud, a small town further inland and the traditional arts and culture capital of Bali. I spent a couple of very pleasant days there, doing quite a lot of walking through the lush, emerald-green rice paddies and the number of small, fairly traditional villages that still exist there. I also wandered around a monkey sanctuary, actually a small patch of woodland that contained a cool, Indiana-Jones style Hindu temple and a surprisingly large number of noisy, greedy macaques. They were sufficiently greedy, in fact, that standing with my arms aloft and a banana in each hand was enough to encourage a small troop of them to clamber up my sides and have a snack while perched on a bit of shoulder, or elbow, or face. They were surprisingly heavy for such small animals (too many banana-holding tourists I guess) and somewhat smelly. Cool photo, though.
Part 2 - Several Snakes
Once Ubud and its monkeys had lost their charm, I headed east, making a pretty taxing 10 hour journey, involving 4 minibuses, 2 boats and a horse drawn cart, to Gili Trawangan. This idyllic island lies off the west coast of Lombok, Bali's neighbour. It's complete lack or motorised transport (hence the horse drawn cart...), as well as the white sand beaches and clear, turquoise sea, makes it an extremely chilled out place. I spent four nights here in the end, and really had to motivate myself to move on when the time came. Just about the only things that weren't relaxing were my encounters with snakes. Note the plural, as well. The first occured when I climbed a small hill to watch the sunset - taking care to make as much noise as possible (to my mind a dubious strategy but apparently that's what you should do...), I nonetheless wasn't loud enough to avoid seeing a couple of small snakes diving off the path at sickening speed as I approached. I believe I dealt very calmly and bravely with the situation, waiting for the people behind me to catch up and hurriedly introducing myself before hiding in the middle of the group. The sunset was amazing, with views of both Gunung Rinjani on Lombok to the east, and Gunung Aygung on Bali to the west. Still not convinced it was worth it, though.
My second encounter occured the following day when I was diving. The Gili Islands' crystal clear waters make it perfect for doing so, and I had hoped to see some white or black tipped sharks. Sadly, they were elsewhere that morning and I had to settle for a lovely sea snake instead. Perfect. I'd almost managed to avoid seeing it as well, happily swimming along about 10m above it, blissfully unaware of the creature below me. This arrangement suited me fine - the instructor, however, felt it necessary to stop, turn around and point to where it was writhing away on the sea bed. It's just a good job it's impossible to run away underwater, else who knows where I would have got to...
Gili Trawangan also produced yet more damning evidence that I am a complete idiot. Readers of Simon's blog of the first two months of our trip will be aware that I made a few errors...leaving my credit card in a Vietnamese ATM, thus necessitating borrowing money from my traveling companion for four weeks and in five different currencies, probably topping the list. Simon's list, in any case, particularly since I still haven't paid him back. So, upon arrival on Gili Trawangan, I was persuaded to get in the back of a local man's
comodo (horse-drawn cart) and have a look at his homestay. As it turned out, the room was cheap, clean and spacious and I took it. I quickly showered and headed into the village to find some food (a ten hour journey, remember...). It was only when I wanted to head home to bed that I realised my error - I had no idea what the place was called, nor where it was. The key gave no clue either. My only option was to wander around the back streets of the village, looking for something familiar. This yielded little joy and, after walking past the same group of locals sitting outside a house for the third time, they stopped me and asked me where I was going. I replied, honestly, that I didn't really know. A teenager on a bicycle was duly dispatched to help me with my fruitless search - I say help, but all he really did was laugh every time we got to a crossroads and I looked confused. Eventually, even he got bored and cycled away (still laughing though). Finally, an hour after I set off, I stumbled upon the place, quite accidentally. The homestay's name was immediately written on my hand in big, thick capitals.
Part 3 - One Grilled Fish
After four nights on Gili Trawangan, I stopped off at Gili Air, one of its smaller, less popular neighbours. I spent the afternoon snorkeling, after convincing myself that sea snakes don't come into the shallows. What I did see, though, was a rather large turtle. Again, I almost swam straight over him before I realised something was looking at me. I stopped, looked at him, and was desperately trying to remember whether turtles were dangerous when he lost interest in me and swam off. I paddled off after him and spent the next twenty minutes about a body length behind following the turtle around the bay. I watched him eat coral, fight with other fish and occasionally stick his little head out of the water to breathe. He spent the whole time determinedly ignoring me until I got cold and swam in.
The story of the grilled fish really begins at lunch time on the same day. I ate at a small, family-run
warung (basically a few wooden tables outside the house) and, since I was the only customer, had the full attention of the owners - two middle-aged sisters. At this point I should probably mention how inquisitive Indonesians are - particularly alone, it's impossible to walk down the street without someone asking you 'where you come from?' or 'where you going?'. While waiting for my food, I was therefore questioned extensively - name, age, nationality, profession, marital status, impressions of Gili Air, impressions of Indonesia and, as I was leaving, 'You want grilled fish tonight?'
'Yeah, sure,' I said and so, at dinner time, I went back to the
warung.
As I arrived, however, it looked like the ladies were cleaning up for the night.
'Oh, have you finished cooking?' I asked.
'CHRIS!!!' They both shouted, 'You come back!!'
'Of course...but if you've already finished...'
I was then, in no uncertain terms, told to 'sit and eat bananas,' while the rest of the family were suitably organised. One daughter was dispatched to find a fish while the other was sent to get wood for the fire her husband was starting. All of this was done with maximum shouting and gesticulating, in the midst of which I sat quietly eating bananas and playing with the grand-daughter.
Before long, the fish (a mean looking white snapper with bared teeth) was placed proudly in front of me along with bowls of rice, vegetables, garlic sauce, prawn crackers and more bananas. Darkness being an issue by this point and electricity being scarce, I was also surrounded by half a dozen candles. Finally, because the scene wasn't memorable enough already, a thunderstorm started overhead and before long it was also raining heavily. I was seated in a kind of large, open sided veranda and so, as soon as the rain started, my food was swiftly grabbed and I was ushered further inside.
'But I'm not even getting wet...' I tried protesting.
Just as I got myself settled down into my new seat, it was decided that this wasn't dry enough either. So I was again moved and this time placed in a large armchair in the kitchen. Finally, with the storm crashing overhead and the rain lashing against the metal roof, I was able to polish off my grilled fish. Which was suitably delicious.
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lazy dory
Natalia
Hahaha that's a really funny story about grilled fish. Authentic indonesian experience!