The more things change, the more they stay the same.

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Five old farts on surfari. The mean age of 51 was only that low because our 45 year old puppy Jeff decided to tag along.
The plan was simple, 5 days wallowing in Bali as an entree to the more serious surfing side of things on an island off the coast of Frank Sumatra.
Stretching the memory strings back almost 30 years to my first jaunt to Bali, I began transposing the 1 dollar a night losmen against the 3 bedroom luxury villa in which we were now bunkered down. Were we going soft? Then the food. The "Bali Belly" syndrome is now but a distant memory as the quality and variety of restaurants would make the spruikers of the Parisian cuisine scene blush.
Anything else? Well now you mention it, the traffic is manic, the constructions and shopping more upmarket, the previously mentioned backpacker hovels have been largely squeezed out and the surf is ridiculoulsy more crowded.
However, scratch beneath the surface and there's still plenty that has maintained its status quo:
- despite millions of tourists unleashing the more ugly side of their cultures, the Balinese have maintained an incredible patience and smiling attitude in the face of the Western onslaught.
- the sales pitches have not altered one single iota in 30 years:
. "hello you wan t-shirt."
."transPOT."
."you buy me, promise, maybe tomorrow."
."why you no wan?"
."wan massage, morning price for you."
These are all delivered with an accent that sounds like someone kicking a tin can down the road.
- man's best friend? Hah! The streets are still littered with the "Balinese Retriever"- flea bitten, battered, bruised and snarly, scavenging for garbage in packs.
Bali is still plenty of fun but for surfers it is being seen more and more as a prelude/postscript/interlude to less crowded waves in other parts of the island chain.
Which is where the next phase for us kicked in. We scored some surf amongst the masses in Bali but the real action we hoped was still to come. So up,up and awaaaaay to:
Telo Island Lodge accommodates 8 guests. Handshakes and pleasantries were exchanged with the other 3 previously unknown Melbournites at Padang Airport in Sumatra, followed by the 1 hour charter flight out to THE island.
Most surfers at some stage in their youth have been guilty of taking a pen and paper then doodling perfect waves peeling along a palm-fringed shore. Throw in a lagoon-side bungalow or two then all that is required is a name. Telo Island Lodge should fill that particular void.
Mention to people that you are coming here and invariably part of the response centres around the "dear as poison" tangent. Is it expensive? Yep. Do you get what you pay for? Double yep.
If you are a financially struggling, recently graduated grommet grovelling your way around the archipelago, you would be fully entitled to turn your nose up at the array of services dished up here. If, however, you are more on the mature side (ie dinosaur) with a little more disposible income at hand and beyond the feral stage of life, then don't be too shy about forking out the bucks.
Apart from surfing, there's not a hell of a lot of distractions, so surfing it was, every day, averaging twice a day. The water a balmy 28ish degrees and the waves a mixture of playful to downright nasty.
The days initially began with surfing, breakfast, surfing, lunch, surfing, aperitifs at Bingtang o'clock, dinner. Within a couple of days though, apathy had taken hold and the pre-brekky session was left in the vault.
Out in the water proper and some unexpected articles did manage to float by every now and then. Trees, pill bottles, paint tins, etc. This genre of flotsam could really spoil the ambience. It was as if an island had sunk somewhere and everything on top was drifting past in the current. The weirdest thing however was the morning a headless pig came cruising by. Now that's something you don't see every day in Cronulla.
Towards the end, just when you are starting to lend some justice to the waves, along rolls a couple of groups of pros to provide a very humbling reality check on how waves should be ridden. They also arrived with a full entourage of surf industry photogs to saturate the surf media. In this most remote corner of the world, here was a full surf circus of jets skis, yachts, half-cabins, water photographers, land-based photographers and local kids floating around on slabs of foam hooting all the action. As Pierre noted, it was like being at the footy, Bintang in hand at the back of the boat watching the carnage from the channel. Yet, in the absolute midst of all this, sat one lone local fisherman in a 2 meter canoe with his little handline trying to catch the evening's dinner. Gotta love a juxtaposition. Gotta love Indo.

More images at:

www.colvinyeates.zenfolio.com

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Photos

Bali
4 likely lads buffed up and ready for action at the Bali's Club Gayland.

Bali
Kuta Reef boat at sunset.

Bali
Impossibles.

Bali
The beach scene at Padang Padang. Such a great beach they named it twice.

Bali.
The corner at Ulu.

Bali.
The rockpool at Ulu.

Bali.
By the beach at Uluwatu.

Telo Island
The right hander at low tide.

Telo Island
And at high tide.

Telo Island
The right hander from the edge of the reef.

Telo Island.
Out the front window.

Telo Island.
Around the back of the island.

Telo Island.
The pros at GTs.

Telo Island
Taj escapes where we were getting slammed.

Telo Island
Then whips it round in a reasonable cutty.

Padang.
Mosque in the big smoke.

Padang.
Padang skyline.

Padang.
Padang local transport. Paint it any colour you like as long as it is LOUD!

Comments

[littlewing]

Isnt Padang..special LOL
You're right, gotta love Indo for what it is. As one of the more mature bloggers I found Sumatera Barat an awesome place..and at a certain age what the hell, we dont need to stay in backpackers anymore. You are so right about the wan massage, wan tshirt, wan bintang...bloody bali!! Give me Sumatra anyday

[colvinyeates]

Thanks.
I like your profile photo