Chargrin

Another fashionably late 'fast boat' collects us from the harbour an hour later than scheduled. A male passenger disembarks hobbling along the pier...his back has just  'gone' on the bumpy and jerky journey. He stops beside me and signals to his partner " I can't go any further" He's in sheer and utter agony, the pain on his face tells his story. I feel for him. His partner is following trying to cope with two huge rolling suitcases. They are only 300m from their hotel but he can't move. It feels like their journey has ended before it's begun. It's awful not to be able to help but even with my stiffened up muscles from the previous days trek, I offer my arm of support but this guys in too much agony to accept. I have to leave them suggesting a massage and sincerely hoping he can find some ease and comfort.

After a ride on top deck with the sun beating down we land on Gili Air (one of three little islands between Lombok and Bali). Making my way through the busy port I finally catch a glimpse of the picturesque little wonder. There are no cars on the island. Most produce and passengers are transported by boats then horse and cart or bicycle whilst on the island. The island is trying to create a 'traditional feel' but these islands have only been inhabited since the 1980's so they're fairly young. The population formed after the interest in the islands grew via the backpacker seeking the 'castaway' tropical island experience as tourism grew in Bali. Gili Air was the first of the three islands to have settlers. It's charming but created purely for and set around the tourist. Driftwood mantras, 'feel good' slogans, fire dancers and bean bags are everywhere. Jamaican colours and reggae music form the theme and vibe. It's 'new age' hippy, happy, 'cool' and 'peace man'!. Mushrooms and marijuana are freely available and advertised everywhere. It reminds me of the seventies liberation, 'free living', flowing clothes, yoga, spiritual seekers and soul searchers sitting before the perfect sunset stoned in their hundreds. It's hard not to like it, it's pretty, cheery, bright, simple and uplifting....BUT it's man made. 

I did a snorkelling boat tour of the islands, Gili 'T', 'M' and Air. The landscape from the boat is incredible, sandwiched between volcanic peaks of Bali and the contoured mountainous terrain of Lombok its eye picturesque in all directions and so pleasant being on the water. We had lunch on Gili Meno. This is the quietist and most un-evolved island. I had a walk around but this was a disappointment. Locals were unwelcoming, the island was uninviting, neglected and Barron. Trash was everywhere and no attempts had been made to care for it. I thought this least touristy of the three islands would be my personal favourite, but far from it. A couple of romantic plush hotels are scattered along the shoreline but if this was where I was spending my honeymoon (it's known as honeymoon island), I don't envisage there'd be a happy ending!

Gili Meno ..... because you often see little boys wheeling a bird in a cage on his bike with a fishing rod!

Gili Meno Beach

Harsh reality of Gili Meno (and all the islands) once you've left the coastline.

Ha ha ....how to look a chump?...wear a snorkel of course!

The glass bottoms boat....it was more like a dirty velux!

The snorkeling was a disappointment too. We were Taken to shallow waters where the coral was dead. It's a real shame to see the shores being destroyed by inexperienced boat tour operators who don't advise people on the impact of touching and treading on the coral, but this was unavoidable in such shallow waters....they fail to see they are destroying their own habitat and livelihood. 

Another sad sight on the islands is the pony's used to pull the traditional wooden carts. The carts are loaded full with building materials, imported food or the lazy tourist. You can walk to the centre of each island in about 10 minutes but the carts are often overloaded with oversized suitcases and portly tourists, the cart tipping heavily under the excessive weight. These animals are out all day, whipped constantly throughout each journey with flies buzzing around their sticky infected sad eyes and bodies attracted by the pouch at the rear of the animal collecting their poo....just another added indignity. I had to stop approaching and trying to offer comfort to their crushingly sad and miserable existence, there's nothing I could do to change their circumstances and it was personally getting under my skin. My only weapon was ensuring I never used this service. My happiness came in the late evenings when their punishing day came to an end. I picture them fed and watered in a cosy barn, knowing deep down this image was far from their reality....I was deluding myself. 

I arrive on the last of the three islands Gili T and head straight off for a look around. After a bit of 'house keeping' (booking the ferry back to Bali etc) I decide to treat myself to a full body massage. A nice relaxing treat I'm thinking. I speak to Ana a petite Balinese girl who offers a full body massage for 125idr (£7). I tell her I wasn't wearing a bikini and she says no problem, leave your underwear on. I get changed and come out in my robe. There's a young male masseur (about 18 years old) working on the next bed about half a metre away from mine. This concerns me, I'm conscious I don't want to damage this boys young eyes in exposing the middle age spread or the accompanying ageing female components. I cautiously hold my clothes together and Ana tells me to remove the robe and get on the bed face down, she's holding up the blanket as a modesty screen. As the robe drops Ana's not paying attention she's chatting and she lowers the blanket too soon ....I dive for it, lunging forward landing unglamourous with a wobbling thud face down on the bed completely missing the face aperture. 

I wriggle into position like a worm and she asks" light, medium or strong force mam?" I assume from her tiny frame she wouldn't apply too much pressure and opt for strong....I was wrong. She pulls the blanket down and my flesh coloured pants uncomfortably low on my bottom (I'm traumatised thinking of the boy next door), mounts the bed and begins to pummel my body, I felt like I was under attack from a 30 stone sumo wrestler.  During the ordeal an insect leisurely floats buzzing into my face hole. First it explores my left nostril, then the right...I'm trying to sniff it out and got one eye open trying to locate its position whilst wincing under pressure of the overhead attack.....this is not relaxing I'm thinking. She turns me over and lays a towel over my eyes and breasts. I thought she then said "your front now mam except stomach and breasts" which is as every other massage I've had, but without warning she whips away the breast towel and cups my left breast , then right and begins massaging ....OMG, OMG... WTF!!! I was screaming inside thinking of the boy next door, i wanted to throw up, his life and career potentially over. What's he's seen cannot be unseen...the poor, poor lad! Likewise what I felt cannot be un-felt...and I knew in that moment the world will never be the same after this unnatural life experience. I was struck dumb by shock, silent in raw humiliation. Finally she proceeds with a head massage, ripping and tearing at my fragile hair...it felt like being in a Clifton estate scrap! The whole hour was punishing, a violation of my privacy and damaging to mankind. I entered hoping to feel a new woman but came out knowing a new woman felt me! ....I leave the establishment scarred for life and a broken, broken woman. 

Wellness? This place should carry a warning - Abuse free of charge!

Gili 'T' is the 'party island' and as I explore the streets this little place comes to life as the sun goes down. The shore line is where all the action is...swings in the sea, loungers on the waters edge, bars, live music, street markets and hoards of teenagers looking for a 'good time' ....and their sure to get it. This island has spectacular beaches and delivers the whole 'man made paradise' package. The back streets however are dirty, poor and basic living for the islanders with many homes set in random fields set up like gypsy camps, their own trash scattered around the perimeter of their homes and extending into the countryside. It's higguldy pigguldy and bursting at the seams with random sights. There's just no logic to anything they do, It's hand to mouth survival for these people. Regardless however you can't help but like it, it subconsciously encourages you to 'loosen up', 'go with the flow' forgetting every regimented and routine thought you have pre-programmed, it has indescribable and bewitching charm.

Street food market - The best food on the island!

I wander home around 7pm and the hotel proprietor is outside on a sun lounger by the pool playing guitar and singing with a friend. I was shocked when I'd arrived earlier that day to be met at reception by Saul. "I am the owner" he proudly announced. Saul is a skinny man which over pronounces the features on his face. He has a 'sunken look'. His skin tone is coconut brown, his hair long jet black and shiny. his high cheekbones are prominent and his teeth protrude from his slender lips resembling a horse, tainted with yellow stain at the tips. He looks like just like a red Indian, minus the feathered head gear!

He's a very jolly man and it's important people enjoy their stay with him at the 'Banana Leaf Cottages'. He invited me over and I share a beer him and his long time friend 'J' as he sings to passing guests. They are bright, cheeky and fun. It was wonderful to see the character and personalities of the locals come to life. I notice they are drinking and smoking, forbidden during Ramadhan. They make me laugh with their tales of sneaking a crafty cigarette and banging on doors of homes they know to be cheating and eating and generally breaking the rules wherever and whenever they can. They don't take themselves or their religion seriously. I go to sleep that night smiling in the knowing we are all just human and really not that different!

Saul in action

Next morning I head for breakfast at 8am but there's no sign of Saul. I knew they were off partying when I left them at 8.30pm. Another customer goes looking for a sign of life at which point Saul pops up from behind the empty beer bottle lined reception desk....he's been sleeping off his hangover and is looking dishevelled and jaded and well like a bit of an eaton mess! This made me laugh and brings back memories of my party days - funny as bless him!

Maybe Saul took this too literally!

Well c'mon....we've all been here!!