Sunday

Indonesia : The End



Saturday September 3, 2011

Dustin and I split from the others to make our way just slightly East to the island of Lombok.  The ferry was big and slow but unremarkable in any other way.  The warmth of the Indonesian’s appeared again as strangers chatted us up as we arrived in our port.  We had purchased an inclusive tickets of sorts that was to contain our transport on Bali to the pier and then across the ocean and again have a ride to our destination.  In reality our “receipt” was vague at best but we had confidence a ride would be waiting for us, surely they only need to see a couple of young white men with backpacks to know that we are the intended passengers.  Sure enough our driver found us from within the hordes and we climbed into another van to head North.  We didn’t know where we would be staying but we had picked the town of Senggigi, more at random that anything else.

We got talked into going to a certain guesthouse just outside the actual town and it proved to be a decent place.  The staff made up with kindness for what they lacked in cooking skills; the place was hands down the worst food I ate in Indonesia.  Though as if they knew I was coming one of the foyers of sorts had a drumset and a bench press.  Granted the drum set was too broken to play a single beat and the weight set was broken and lacking any matching weights.  I gave them credit for both if at least to raise my spirits.  They also offered to drive us to and fro the town of Senggigi in their custom convertible (custom means the top was chopped off by what looked to be a hatchet).  Of course when we insisted we would walk they had a hard time believing us.  Either that or anyone was looking to get out working in the kitchen and I couldn’t blame them.

The two days we had were brief but amazing.  Our first full day we rented bikes, or an assortment of wheels and chains that would pass for bikes, and decided to head up the coastal road.  The ride was definitely the most beautiful ass kicking I’ve had in a long time.  While the distance itself was likely a modest 20 miles or so, the perpetual hills that we forced to embark were odious.  Sure, the downhill was fantastic if not short lived but we both knew as we kept pushing forward that we would be repeating the task soon as there was no loop to be had on this trip.  Our night was quiet to say the least as we found a local food hotspot and retired shortly thereafter to our room.

The following day was definitely one of the top days of my whole trip.  We rented scooters from our guesthouse and set out for Kuta Beach, Lombok. (not to be confused with Kuta Beach, Bali).  It would be a long ride considering we only had scooters and a hand drawn map but we were lured to the destination by the way the locals spoke of the beauty of the beach.  Before enjoying any of it though we first had to make our way across an island filled with drivers and traffic that resembled something of a NASCAR race in the middle of a parade.  Had it not been for the time I had already spent riding in vans and buses in other countries I would have been ill-prepared to command my humble scooter.  Speed is not really the issue so much as the ownership of space and who get s what lane.  And by lane of course I am referring to the part of the road that would be a lane if there are lines painted anywhere.  Picture if you will a normal highway, designed for a car in each direction. In Indonesia that is a 5 lane highway and everyone can have any lane; size of car and courage/stupidity being the prevailing factors.  Alas, I am here writing this so it couldn’t have been that bad.  It wasn’t really, it was quite enjoyable, I just don’t recommend it to everyone.

Oh but it was worth it.  Kuta Beach turned out to be the most remarkable beach I have seen throughout my travels.  Maybe it was the endless white sand or maybe it was the fact that no was baron of any foreign soul.  The area is relatively underdeveloped by even a backpacker’s standpoint although I have my doubts that it will last this way for much longer.  It has the feeling that it will become overrun and suffocated by tourism in within the next few years.  If you get the chance then I make a strong recommendation to include it in your next travel plans, just don’t expect any luxury except the natural beauty that surrounds you. One of my only regrets on my trip was not having enough time at Kuta Beach.  We had to return the scooters that night and we wanted nothing to do with driving at night on this island.  By the time we finished the sun was just setting and we had done a cool 100 miles that day.  


Monday September 5rd 2011

I am back in Bali and this time it’s just not quite the same.  We are in Kuta Beach (not to be confused with the amazing Kuta Beach of Lombok island) and the atmosphere is different.  This place, while surely beautiful, has a certain aura about it that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  It is likely due to the hordes of tourists that are here with me.  Unlike the serenity that was experienced just hours earlier on the shores of Lombok, this place is like a headache for the soul.   The other travelers here are no longer the average backpacker but typical vacationers, where their money is less sacred than their time. 

 I have had to spend the majority of the week on my own as everyone else has already moved on, either back to USA (yuck) or to a new country.  Parting ways was not so difficult except I feel surprisingly alone in a sea of people.  I feel disconnected from the tourist here and have spent my time in public solitude.  The only real news seems to be that I have contracted a wicked sinus infection but have found an amazing little eatery serving up the fattest tuna steaks I’ve ever had.  Other than that it’s just been an average week on a beautiful beach.  I guess it doesn’t sound too bad when I put it that way.

My flight for Manila will leave later this evening and I’m all packed up, including my mixed bag of emotions on the subject.  The very thought of going back to work threatens to give me the chills; quite the feat considering where I am these days. On the other hand I have grown tired, not of traveling but from it.  The constant movement to new places, changing beds every other night and the barrage of new culture has made my body weary.  I relish the idea of coming back to the same bed, free to take a hot shower at my leisure and maybe even watch some TV from time to time.  They are a list of simple pleasures but my time away from home has led to a deeper thankfulness for such things.

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