Of course, our slightly sketchy cab driver drops us off in front of this tiny tourism shop and as soon as we exit the cab a group of men surround us, take out bags, usher us into a tiny office and begin insisting I sign something.
"Wait, how much is it?" I ask.
"$45 each," one answers.
"No, no, no, we want the public ferry!"
"Yes, slow boat miss."
"That is way too much money, we were told the public ferry is $6."
"Yes, $6 but then we provide transport to Senggigi."
"But we want to go to Kuta first."
"Nothing in Kuta, you must hurry, we must go now, boat leaves in 5 minutes."
My mom and I both know the ferry leaves in 20 minutes and that these guys are full of shit, but being surrounded by them while they all scream in our face at once, telling us how we must hurry, I feel chaotic and so confused that they almost successfully bamboozle us.
We tell them no and they continue to yell at us that there is no other ferry and if we don't leave now the next one isn't until 2:00 and that we're wrong and don't know anything.
We leave the shop and one of them actually follows us down the road still yelling at us and furiously dropping his original price. I try to stay cool and be firm, but I'm about to lose my temper, thankfully he finally gives up. We walk directly to the large vessel which is so obviously the public boat and experience similar situations in the 200 metres to the ticket office. We finally make it and buy our legitimate tickets at a cool $3 a pop, but once onboard my mom immediately gets ripped off.
She hands me a cup of the shittiest instant coffee I'd had yet and when I try to throw it out she is horrified, "Do you know how much that cup of coffee cost? $6!"
"What?! You got had!!"
"Well I can't haggle with them, it'd be like trying to haggle on BC Ferries."
"You wouldn't haggle anywhere in Canada, it's different here... He saw you, one of the only white women on this boat, he named an exorbitant price and you actually paid it. Were there prices listed anywhere?"
"No..."
"There you go..."
Oh mom, I love you to pieces but you're too nice!
The ferry itself is very basic, picture the Gabriola boat but with no indoor seating, just these kind of spongy raised platforms where everyone sleeps. The toilets are holes, no sink, no toilet paper. I'm not too fussed, the ferry from South to North Island in New Zealand was the same length and time flew by on it. But in the meantime, we overdose on Gravol and pass out.
Lombok
We disembark on Lombok and before we get swarmed by taxi drivers, my mom and I agree on a price to Kuta. The bus is $15 each so we think $30 is fair.
A guy offers to take us for $35.
"$30," I say firmly.
"$35," he counters with determination.
"Okay, then we'll take the bus."
"There is no bus!"
"Well, we'll find out for ourselves," I reply, walking away.
"Okay fine, $30."
No more Miss Nice Fran!
We get to Kuta and it's beautiful. Turquoise water in a half moon bay, just as Lonely Planet promised. It's virtually deserted and we check into a home stay across from the beach for a mere $15 a night. We go for a swim, but because the sandbar is so far out, all the bay water is uncomfortably warm. We sit on the beach and an old lady cosies up to my mom. She's selling bracelets and sarongs that she swears, (along with everyone else selling shit on the beach) were made by her grandmother.
My mom initially says no, but engages in conversation with her. She is really pushing these bracelets and my mom finally relents and buys a few at an inflated price. She, wrongfully, assumes that'll be the end of it, but now the lady is forcefully pushing the sarongs and why not? As I explain to my mom later, she's already convinced her to buy something she didn't want, surely she can do it again.
My mom escapes for a swim and the woman turns to me, but I put in my headphones and ignore her.
Do I feel like a bitch? Sure, but it works. The lady sees a while couple and chases them down the beach.
Gilli T
We spend another day relaxing and then we're off to the Gilis. We share a car with 3 people - an Aussie bloke, a German girl and a Latvian chick who are headed up Mount Rinjani. My phone is dead so I'm stuck in the back eating pizza flavoured shapes and listening to their inane conversation. We finally make it to Bengsal and, after some confusion, find the ticket office and purchase our slow boat tickets for $2. It fills up fast so we don't have to wait long. We arrive on Gilli T and begin wandering in search of accommodation. A guy at the docks tells us to go to his home stay because it's only $30 a night. We head in the direction he tells us and never do end up finding it, but instead stick out heads into Hakuna Matata. The Finnish owner Rebecca and her Indonesian boyfriend Joe are the loveliest hosts and our room is quaint AND equipped with AC. $25 a night is the price, perfect.
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| Hakuna crew |
We head to Horizontal Lounge and claim a couple bean bags on the beach. When I complain that I need some shade my mom looks at me like I'm crazy. By the time I get home, I already look like a lobster. I traipse along the dirt road clutching a sarong around me in respect to the many "NO BIKINI ON THE STREETS" signs, while drunk tourists stumble about and the call to prayer booms through the speakers. If there was ever a more profound clash of cultures, I haven't seen it.
Tired of Indonesian food my mom and I go out for sushi (surprise surprise, it sucks) and as it's happy hour, we get three drinks for the price of two. Before long I'm seriously buzzed and getting tired of fighting off the vivacious flirtation from the local bartenders. One makes me a butterfly out of a napkin and sultrily tells me, "Welcome to Freedom Island." Later on he tries to convince me to come out and party with him. Instead, my mom and I watch the 'Play for your Country Beer Pong Tournament' (which I can proudly report, Canadians are absolutely dominating) and then grab some take away drinks and stroll the streets. Everywhere we went the Indonesian men address my mom as 'mother' much to her annoyance.
"Hi Mother,"
"Yes Mother,"
"How are you Mother?"
I begin saying she's my sister.
They also like to address her in this way while basically complimenting her on creating an attractive child.
"Mother, your daughter is so beautiful!"
Sometimes they would just cat call me directly, but mostly it was in this weird passive manner.
The streets of Gilli are too wild for us so we head home.
The next day we rent bikes and snorkel gear and cycle the entire island while stopping every so often to snorkel. We see heaps of florescent fish in the reef, but sadly, no turtles.
We hit the sunset bar, but the clouds roll in, obscuring the view and soon all the beach go-ers are running for cover beneath the sudden torrential downpour (that lets up just as quickly as it begins.)
We hit the fish market and have skewered tuna and sample a buffet of tasty local dishes, washed down with Bintang and followed by gelato.
I want to go to bed, but my mom makes fun of me ("For God's Sake Francesca, it's 8:15 on a saturday night!")
So we stroll the strip and my mom insists we stop for foot massages (her treat!)
My masseuse asks where we're from and when we say Canada, he says, "My brother lives there!"
"Really?!" I ask, gullible as always.
"Yah, his name is Justin Bieber!"
My mom is delighted, any excuse for her to discuss her love and pride for Biebs...
I don't really enjoy my massage. My masseuse spends the entire time mercilessly hitting on me and complimenting the shape of my legs. At this point, I'm actually sick to death of being hit on.
Eventually our time on Gilli T comes to an end and we book our fast boat directly to Nusa Lembongan.
Nusa Lembongan
We finally make it to our hotel and go to take a shower, the tap water is clearly treated ocean water and leaves our skin feeling of wax, also, the power is down. We go out for dinner and dine at Heroes, the most delicious warung we've been to yet.
The next day we walk almost the entire island and stop for some tasty sushi at Mama Mia restaurant overlooking the seaweed farms before checking out the infamous yellow bridge.
We get home and go for a swim and I manage to step on a black sear urchin. It feels like getting stung by seven bees at once and my skin immediately turns black where I've been pricked. I try to get the spines out, but they are fragile and break off in my skin. I freak out and immediately assume I'm going to have to have my foot amputated. My mother tries to remove the spines with a pin and I try to act brave and hide the fact that tears are pouring down my face.
Thankfully, it feels better by the time I go for my first dive the next day. The other pupil doesn't show so I have the instructor all to myself, I'm delighted for two reasons, one: I'm certain I'll need the extra help and two: I secretly have a massive crush on him.
Practicing in the pool is weird at first especially with so little space while breathing in and out of the mask feels unnatural. We head out into the ocean and when we begin to submerge, I freak out and return to the surface. I feel claustrophobic and fearful and as if I'm not getting enough air into my lungs. I tear up and declare that I don't think I can do it. Luckily, my instructor talks me through it and we slowly submerge together. I'm having trouble with my buoyancy, so he holds my hand while we swim (it's super romantic.)
We see amazing coral reefs and many amazing fish (lion fish, clown fish, unicorn fish, just to name a few!) I'm grateful for the experience, but can't help but feel relieved when we return to the surface.
We say our goodbyes to the lovely island and return to the mainland to rap up our trip.
***Note: Anytime I mention money it's already been converted into Canadian/Australian dollars
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