Lombok

Lombok

Lombok – Part II – the Lazy Leg

This leg (i feel i'm stretching the term a little here) of the Lombok trip had a slightly more leisurely feel to it. To say the least. Not that our friends Mick and Claire could be called lazy in any way. No more than we could, of course! It's just that the atmosphere of the Gili Islands slowly crept over us and, by the end of a week there, we had been fully subdued by the sunsets, the views, the strolls, and of course, the fresh air. When my belt buckle began to repeat its old London trick of disappearing whenever i sat down, it became clear that we needed to heave ourselves off those infernally beautiful islands and get back to the grind of life in Bali. Here are a few shots i managed to bestir myself enough to take. at one point, Egg was the single most active person on Gili Air Uncle Mick graciously passes off brownies for Birthday Cake. Dumpy was maybe a little less inclined.... Uncle Mick: "Here's one i prepared earlier..." Egg: "Rubbish. that's not a cake, it's a beer" Our local volcano dresses up for dinner.... ....but spares no blushes later the choices were: get seasick or go to sleep Tash was relieved to discover that our ferry catered to the directionally challenged Cirque des Clunes, everyone. Cirque des Clunes Monkey Tennis (couldn't resist the double Partridge) the end of another crap day.

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August 18, 2010
Lombok

Lombok! (part I)

Our circumnavigation of Lombok is nearly complete. Here come some lessons from the journey so far. Don't: go any further than it takes to three-point turn yourself right on out of there if you encounter the beginnings of a bad road. no matter how much quicker it looks on the map, or what your sense of adventure is telling you; chances are it won't improve. we discovered this the hard way, after forty jarring kilometres on a road that was more like peanut brittle than any kind of thoroughfare. our car, an otherwise sturdy Avanza, let us know how it felt with a double flat tyre combination as soon as we got back to smooth tarmac. Cue lengthy wait while the first person to stop -- a saintly man by the name of Carti -- helped to remove both wheels, then rode off into the sunset with them while we spent two pointless hours on the road making smalltalk with a crowd of passerby who clearly had nothing more pressing to do than sit around, drink our juice, eat our chocolate and look at Tash's legs. bother with Kuta on the south coast. unless you want to join the ranks of smirking australian developers who sit in the cafes doing property deals with the locals in gleeful anticipation of the new, mega-airport opening in six months time. the other qualification required to enjoy your time in Kuta is at least a decent command of SurfSpeak. beach breaks, reef breaks, left handers. you know the bobby. sitting in a bar after the family had gone to bed, and faced with few alternatives, i was forced to bank the only real hangover of the Indonesia trip thus far just to get conversant in Surfanese. succumb to the urge to have even a single Bintang (beer) after a few nips of the local spirits (see preceding point). this relatively innocuous combo can bring…

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August 6, 2010