Fear And Loathing In Lombok

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The porter imperiously demanded to see our tickets when Soop’s cousin interceded and led Karen and I to a pony cart and some personal space away from the chaos that is Bangsal.

After deep-sixing plans to stay in Gili Meno we spent the next day enjoying all that Gili Air had to offer. A spectacular sunrise greeted us in the morning as we set off for a day of spectacular snorkeling on the reef. Our resident sea turtle made an appearance and brought along a Giant Grouper. Our visits to the water were interspersed with quiet interludes in our cabana outside Sunrise Cottages. Our waiter ‘Soop’ kept us well supplied with Mango shakes and munchies. Soop is a great guy who speaks passable English. We discussed everything under the Sun with him; his family, his job, our son Noah, music and food. About noon the rains started so we headed back to our hotel for some final packing.

I loathe moving days. Back in the 80’s when Karen and I started traveling together we moved every couple of days without a whimper. Now in my advanced years the mere thought of packing a suitcase is enough to elicit a curmudgeonly groan. I took comfort in the fact that we were only going to the island of Lombok, Bali’s next door neighbor. Getting to Lombok from the Gilis is a matter of choosing between the Perama boat which leaves at 7 AM or the public boat departing at a more sensible 8:30 AM. Perama charges 100,000 Rp ($10 US), the public boat is 75,000 Rp. After finishing with the bags we caught the sunset at Go-Go’s saying goodbye to Eddie and the boys. We had a final seafood dinner at Wi Win which set us back a whopping $10 for giant prawns and tuna steak. We walked home in the moonlight knowing that we would sadly miss this wonderful island and its amazing people, but life moves on.

After an early breakfast our pony cart driver picked us up at the hotel and took us to the port via the beach path. As we headed south dozens of the native people we had met over the past week stood and waved, shouting their good byes and asking us to come back again. How could we not?

Tickets secured, we sat with a couple of Norwegian girls on their way to Bali. They are working as sports instructors in Kuta. I mentioned that Noah was a fan of Norwegian death metal. This got their attention. Noah, they said hello and sent the attached picture to you as a kindred soul. You would have loved them. Soop appeared out of the blue with his two year old son to say good-bye. (The kindness of these people is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before.) After talking for a while he got up and spoke to someone in the port office. With that he waved and was gone. Later we discovered that he had asked his cousin who works as a travel agent to escort us to our destination. Soop knew something we didn’t.

After a one-hour ride our boat arrived at Bangsal. Bangsal is a small beach where the shuttle boats put in. From there you transfer by pony cart or foot to a café which acts as the bus terminal. The problem is that if you haven’t been through Bangsal before, you will have no idea what to do. As soon as you emerge from your boat, men will grab your bags unbidden in hope that you will pay a handsome ransom to get them back. This routine is practiced in every port, bus terminal and airport in Lombok. It’s distasteful and it goes on all of the time without interference by the authorities, whoever they might be. We learned of this practice before we arrived in Lombok. It can also occur in Bali. When we landed in Denpensar and went outside to book a taxi, some kid kept reaching for our bags as if he were an assistant to the cab driver. We repeatedly asked him to stop but he kept on trying. Not until the bags were safely in the trunk of the car did he throw in the towel. I asked our driver who the kid was and I got a shrug in response. Keep your hand on your bag at all times and don’t let it go. Period. End of story. In Bangsal the porters have added a new twist to the scam. If you won’t let go of your bag they demand to see your ticket in an authoritarian voice. You drop the bag to get your ticket out and wham; they’ve got the bag. Thanks to Soop’s cousin we were out of there in a minute flat. Behind us we saw dozens of tourists following ‘porters’ to who knows where. The entire time we were in Lombok we only saw the police twice. Once when they were escorting a bus full of politicians and once when they were directing traffic. You will for the most part be on your own so act accordingly. When you arrive in Bangsal, which is little more than a beach, go to the road on your right. Turn left on the road and go approximately 300 yards to the bus terminal/ cafe. Look for a bunch of vans parked on the roadside. There are always pony cart drivers available if you need to ride to the terminal but negotiate the cart price before you go or you’ll be sorry. Lombok is no place for the timid.

At the café/ terminal we killed a half hour talking with a young couple originally from Warsaw, Poland but now living in Dublin, Ireland and working as engineers for Google. Nice people. We exchanged addresses and promises of safe refuge should our paths ever cross again. We loaded ourselves into a mini-bus with four Germans and an unidentified couple in the front seat who became remarkable when the male became violently car sick towards the end of the journey.

Lombok is flat out beautiful. Sylvan green hills, 50-foot coconut palms, mountain peaks, flowers, absolutely stunning crescents of beach divided by rocky points. It’s gorgeous. Our goal was Sengigi, a beach town on the West Coast. We had the driver drop us at Windy Cottages just north of town in Mangsit. Wonderful place. Open green lawns, horizon pool, large open restaurant, large rooms with verandas and the best bathrooms we have seen yet. The problem was the price. The daily charge was $34 for a fan room, which is high for Indonesia in low season. It became clear that the manager was unwilling to negotiate so we made plans to enjoy our night and move on to more prudent lodging in the morning. We discovered that a French couple and we were the only people staying at Windy Cottages. There are a total of 24 rooms at the hotel. The management’s lack of flexibility regarding cost was puzzling under the circumstances especially when we would be taking all of our meals in their restaurant. But hey, it’s their show.

That night, eating dinner by ourselves in the 12-table restaurant, we were waited on by a staff of four who divided their attention between a static filled television and us. We quietly sipped our beverages and chewed our curries. The TV informed the staff that Obama had won the US election, which made them extremely happy. Obama is a favorite son here as he lived in Indonesia for a short time when his Mother married a man in Jakarta who I think was husband number two but could have been husband number three but he definitely wasn’t husband number one because that one was Kenyan and he was the actual father… I think. Many Indonesians believe that Obama is Indonesian. I told my waitress that Obama was going to declare Indonesia the 51st State in the Union. She seemed relieved.

Now the worst thing about Lombok. The vendors. In Bali you only need tell a vendor that you’re not interested in buying anything three times to get him to back off. In Gili Air twice will suffice. In Lombok we discovered that saying no fifteen times is Indonesian for “Please follow me around all day until I’m so pissed off that I want to slap you hard enough to wake your family back in the cave you crawled out of this morning.” They camp out behind the hotels making it nearly impossible to get to the beach. They camp out in front of the hotels and accost you as you leave. If you take a Bemo into Sengigi they target you as soon as you leave the vehicle and start walking. They will follow you into restaurants and approach you while you are eating. They become abusive, going so far as to grab your arm to keep you from leaving. They gather around Sengigi’s two ATM machines like bees circling a pair of blooms. There is an air of economic desperation here that we have not seen before. Most of the stores are boarded up. The few stores that are open sell basic groceries and T-shirts. There are no drug stores here. To obtain medications requires a trip south to Mataram. It is not good. There are some very high priced resorts here. The Sheraton has an operation in town, which starts at $300 per day. Totally walled and guarded it is like a little Fort Wilderness. Guests are taken out in private cars and protected from vendor harassment while sunbathing around the pool. Guests cannot be seen on the beach, as the hotel’s protection does not extend that far. Mangsit is a coastal area just north of Sengigi proper and this is where the nicest lodgings can be found. Under no circumstances would I advise anyone to stay in Sengigi itself. Lombok is a sad place. Most of the people here are Sasak hill tribe and have had little if any formal education. There was a massacre here in the 1960’s of between fifty and a hundred thousand people (according to the natives the victims were Communists and had it coming ). In the 1970’s a famine forced the government to relocate hundreds of thousands of islanders. In the year 2000 Sasaks put Chinese businesses and the Chinese themselves to the torch in Mataram. Add the Bali bombings and the result is this: a beautiful island that no outside investors want to put development money into fearing what might happen. And this is Lombok’s premiere beach area according to the guidebooks.

The next day we moved down the road to Santai Cottages (Santai Beach Inn - Mangsit, Lombok 83355 Tel: [phone]). Really neat thatched bungalows on private grounds with access to the beach. The cost is $16 per night including taxes and breakfast. Meals are taken communally at long low tables Japanese style. The food is all vegetarian and very good. Meals are $2 for lunch and $3 for dinner. Eat all that you like and there is plenty to consume. A Brit woman named Pearl who built the place 20 years ago with her now ex-husband owns the place. She has a 13 year old adopted Indonesian daughter named Layla. There is an excellent book exchange here and they really know the area should you need any guidance, which you will. Pearl is proud of the fact that she hasn’t raised rates in over 10 years. As a tourist I’m happy that she hasn’t. As a businessman I think she’s a bit daft. Her next door neighbor charges $350 a night. Her closest competitor is Windy and we know the story there. Pearl is currently trying to sell the operation to be with her Mum in England. I’m sure that Layla will enjoy the change of scenery. Due to her low rates Pearl can’t afford a guard to keep the vendors at bay like the high priced resorts. The result is that vendors will yell at you from the back wall and if that fails to get your attention they will walk onto the grounds. Taking a nap? No problem as they will wake you to inform you of their special offers. Tell one of them your name and within hours every vendor on the beach has it. The Lombok version of a junk mail list. What are they selling? Primarily jewelry and wristwatches. The vendors believe that Westerners are lacking these basic necessities and it is their job, no, their mission to make sure that every man, woman and child that comes to Lombok is fully supplied with fake designer watches and faux pearl necklaces. If you see a man with a baseball cap and a flat wooden box under his arm coming towards you start running. A word of advice to preclude most of the problems. Go to the ATM at 6 AM as the vendors haven’t heard about the early bird-worm thing, ignore anyone that uses your name (your family will have to adjust), and be willing to become angry (staring them in the eye wordlessly while clenching and unclenching your fist works wonders). The vast majority of the people here are very nice and the island is simply stunning but it’s hard to see those features when somebody is continually waving merchandise in your face.

There is a large seawall behind Santai. Early one morning unable to sleep due to the sound and vibration made by waves pounding against the wall I ventured out into the darkness to the beach. To my right I heard loud excited voices speaking in Sasak dialect. Suddenly a fishing boat came into view. A flimsy outrigger with a colorful triangular sail crashed through the breakers as it headed out to sea. One after another they came out following the same tack from the beach until once safely past the swells they each headed to their own destination. Their were dozens of them. The fishermen shouted out to each other until the distances between the boats became too great for their voices to carry over. These were the same fisherman that I had seen on our trip from Bali to the Gilis. Brave men in little boats earning their daily wage. What a life.

After three days of this nonsense we hired a driver to take us to Kuta in the south of Lombok. Kuta is known for its beautiful crescent beach. We rode down with Linda, a girl we had met at Santai. Linda works for the Australian Parks Service in Darwin Australia. She had spent the last 2 weeks at Santai with her pet land crab but that’s another story. Condra, our driver, picked us up in his clean SUV and we headed south skirting the city of Mataram. It was here that we encountered a huge send-off celebration at a large mosque, which was sending a group of pilgrims to Mecca. The road in front of the mosque is a nice spacious four laner, two lanes of which were claimed by people selling food, souvenirs and rides for the kiddies on homemade bamboo contraptions like miniature carousels and Ferris wheels. The party covered 2 kilometers of road. Turn around breaks in the median strip were covered in tarps upon which thin, sun-hardened women spread tobacco to dry. In the distance a serrated ridge of volcanoes lay like the lower jaw of a fossilized T-Rex. Of course no trip through Lombok is complete without a factory tour to watch native craftspeople at work. Our first stop was a pottery factory. We walked into a fantasy of clay. Pots, bowls, dishes, plates, wall decorations, egg holders, business card holders and on and on. The cavernous space was stacked floor to ceiling with cylinders of brightly glazed objects. I couldn’t wait to see the people who had made these things and what did I find when I ventured into the rear ‘Factory’ area? Strange as it sounds everything I had seen in the front showroom was fashioned by a middle-aged Sasak woman sitting on a 6-inch high stool in front of a ‘Mattel’ Lazy Susan potter’s wheel holding a handful of wet clay. I asked her to demonstrate her artistry. She bid me to join her and together we worked the raw material side by side, Years of experience poured out through her sinewy hands as she bent the moist earth to her will. In the end we had a nice ashtray which cost me a buck. It was my only purchase. Luckily Linda is a die-hard shopper who took the pressure off of Karen and I. If the shopkeeper started giving me the hairy eyeball I would point at Linda’s back and rub my fingers together. We stopped at a painting shop and moved on towards Kuta.

Kuta is on Lombok’s South coast, an arid and hardscrabble place. The drainage ditches along the roadside were filled with plastic bottles and trash. The beach is beautiful but lifeless, as we saw not one person anywhere on it. The half dozen or so gated hotels offer basic lodging. The best of the bunch was the Surfer’s Inn where a double A/C room could be had for 180,000 Rp a night. The room’s bed was a foam mattress perched on a concrete slab pedestal. The walls hadn’t seen a coat of paint in years. Four young surfers lounged in the murky miniature swimming pool recounting their exploits on Kuta’s famous breakers. After checking a couple of other places we made the decision to get out while we had the driver with us. Flocks of hungry vendors perched along the roadside watched forlornly as we made our way out of town. Curses!

Linda decided to go to Gili Nanggu just off of Lombok’s SW peninsula. To get there we had to drop her at the port of Lembar. Entering the port we were forced to stop at a ‘security’ gate manned by six thugs in baseball caps. Before getting to the gate our driver asked us for a 5,000 Rp bill and told us not to say anything while he spoke to them in rapid Sasak. As he talked the men peered at us through the car windows, finally accepted the money and allowed us through. All Indonesians entering the port were allowed to pass unmolested. Welcome to the world of racial profiling. The word you’re looking for is ‘extortion’. Lombok thugs are like little Rat Terriers. One or two are no problem but get into a tussle with more than that and you are likely to lose a finger. Once inside we dropped Linda at the tourist information office where I had to stop a ‘porter’ from taking our luggage from the car with a curt no. It just goes on and on. We hated leaving Linda alone there but not being the types to offer unsolicited advice we let her roll onward. Our driver was highly agitated and did not relax until we had left the port in our dust. Two hours later we were back in Santai just in time for a power outage. According to an Indonesian we met at the hotel these rolling blackouts are a way of life in Lombok. At the high priced resort next door we heard the hum of an often-used emergency generator at work.

The next morning I snuck into town and secured two tickets on the first Perama boat out to Gili Air. Two hours later we found ourselves at sea heading back to peace, quiet and friends. Three days later Linda showed up at our door looking a little tired but happy to be back in safe company. She told us that Gili Nanggu was disappointing in that there were only one hotel and one restaurant on the island and that both were overpriced. The reef there is in bad condition and the island’s vegetation had been clear-cut in anticipation of a new resort which never materialized.

If you are planning to come to Lombok I can offer a couple of suggestions besides those already in the story. For inter-island transport use Perama. They are punctual, honest and consistent. You are paying a higher fare but you will always reach your destination. They will also baby-sit you through the leg changes like Bangsal. They have an office in Sengigi, Bangsal and Mataram. Traveling in the island is best done with a hired driver. Public buses are notorious for adding hours onto any trip as the drivers are paid per passenger and they will drive in circles picking up riders until they have a full load. Perama has buses serving the island but they are not as competitive pricewise as taxis are for groups of two or more. Karen, Linda and I hired our driver to take us to Kuta for 250,000 Rp (about $25 US). If we had taken the bus the total for the three of us would have been 450,000 Rp. Our driver was a really honest individual that took excellent care of us through our entire time with him. Condra’s cell phone number is: 0818054 38365. Your hotel can also refer you to a good driver. Negotiate the price BEFORE you get in the car. Women should travel in groups. Lombok men consider Western women to be quite a catch and a woman standing alone will soon find herself faced with several inept suitors. Their pickup lines include” I love you “and the classic” I want make love to you”. Do not go to Lombok first. Lombok is not representative of the Indonesian experience. Go there first and you'll be making plans to head back home almost immediately. Put it at the end of you stay if you need to see it. Would I go back? In a word; no.

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Photos

The Calm Before The Storm
Our last sunrise on Gili Air before crossing the water to Lombok.

Soop and Son
Our friend Soop comes down to port to see us off. Good guy.

Norwegian Fans
Hellos to Noah.....

Windy Cottages Pool
KJ poolside at the high priced place.

Cabana Girl
Karen enjoying a rare quiet moment in Lombok.

Santai Beach Inn Room
Mosquito netting is omnipresent in Lombok.

Dinner At Santai
Great food and lots to eat. We met some interesting folks at this table.

Lombok Teens
These guys insisted that we take their picture. They asked so little that we had to comply. The only people we met on the beach that didn't ask us to buy something.

Linda and Afid
Our Australian companion Linda and our Gili friend Afid at the return home party we had at Go-Go's Beach Club in Gili Air.

Comments

[seth]

great stuff
wow guys, great informative blog. We are always looking for knowledgable contributors. www.aussietravellersforum.com.au Not just for Aussies, share your view of the world :)

[Paul]

what you make it
had a great time in lombok. stayed in a a/c room with h/w, tv, double bed for 150,000rp(Puri Sengigi) a night. Sure the vendors were persistant but the place and people need tourist dollars. Be willing to spend a bit of money on a couple of T-shirts and book marks etc and make some friends. They will appreciate it, and for the most part leave you alone afterwards to enjoy a beautiful and a quiet beach, something very hard to find in bali.

[Helen]

Fear and Loathing story
It was great to read your comments. We are going to Lombok on 1 Jan 2010 for six nights and still hesitating about where to stay although I must say Sanatai seems to be our favourite option so far. After reading this commentary I'm now wondering whether we should spend time in Gilli air instead and just have a couple of days in Lombok at Santai? Any comments about whewre to stay in Gilli Air?

[Mike and Karen]

Lombok vs. Gili Air
Sorry to be getting back to you after the fact. I wrote the Blog over a year ago and only come back to it on those occasions when I need to be reminded how boring my day to day life is. In any case I hope you spent more time in Gili Air. I'm planning to get back there this year. Santai is a clean and affordable refuge in Lombok.