Lombok

Lombok is truly beautiful.  By far the most beautiful of the places through which I’ve been on this trip to date, and that is saying something.  I have an instinct it will outshine Bali, too.  Time will tell.

While West Nusa Tenggara was a blur, scooting straight through without blinking, I opted to stay two nights in Lombok’s Kuta.  I believe it is the first time since I set out from Melbourne that I’ve stayed in a place longer than logistics required; simply to relax for a day in a beautiful place.  At least that was the plan.

In the end it turned out to be a valuable opportunity to try adding those pesky diary photos, and to edit the long-overdue “Eastern Loop” video for Timor-Leste.  That took all day, pulling up stumps around 11:30pm.  Progress made, but the finish line is still a way off.

Chatting over WhatsApp with my Badjo acquaintance, Lupo, I’d said I’d take the ferry to Bali “tomorrow”; March 22 at the time.  Apparently that wasn’t going to work as it is Nyepe Day.  I’m sure I’ve heard of this before, but Lupo kindly reminded me that “Silence Day” shuts the whole town (island?) down.  That apparently includes ferries and any transport at all, meaning I’d not even be allowed to ride my motorbike into town.  I find it strange that this would restrict by edict rather than by opt-in choice, but there you go.  It does mean I’d have been much better to take one day in Lombok, and get to Bali yesterday, doing my video editing on Nyepe Day.  Bah!

So two nights has turned into three on Lombok, but I could hardly call that a trial.  Since I can’t get to Bali on Nyepe Day, I’ve taken the ride up to some waterfalls an hour’s drive north of Kuta – in the middle of Lombok island.  They’re every bit as spectacular as their reputation suggested.  Just beautiful.  I got there about 9am, and the place was quiet and nearly empty.  I thought that’s just how it was, but not so.  It got steadily busier as the tourists rolled in, and then a traditional percussion band with amplified traditional flute turned up and blared out an ear-splitting drama that no doubt was intended to enhance the atmosphere.  To my (grumpy old man) mind, it broke the sense of peace.  Shattered it.  Veritably nuked it.  But I was on my way out anyway, so I made a mad dash past the drums that nearly broke my own drums – even Apple Watch complaining I was being exposed to dangerous sound levels!

After a bite of fish and rice back at the parking lot market, I then rode the hour to Lembar.  

While it’s clear there’ll be no ferries today, I came to at least do some reconnaissance and confirm there were regular ferries every day other than Nyepe Day.  Two ferries in a row I’ve been stuck with the only day in recent times when there’s been a cancelation.  What is that trying to tell me?!

At first I thought I was hearing from the ferry staff that I had to be at the docks for the Bali ferry by 5am.  Gasp! – that’s a little on the early side for this non-worm-catcher.  But with yet more help from Google Translate, I then understood the ferries are every two hours starting from 5am.  I think I’ll aim for the 9am, unless I’m woken again by the blaring 5am sirens – this time for the start of Ramadan’s “30 day fast”.  [As an aside, I don’t know why it’s called a fast, as it’s only during sunlight hours with all the same eating crammed in after dark.  Shouldn’t it be called “eat-the-day’s-food-intake-after-dark”?  As you were.]

After topping up my ferry ticket at the docks, I rode around the general area with what I expected to be a hopeless, pointless search for vacant(ish) land in the vicinity that might not notice or mind a random motorbike and tent parked for the night.  After one or two spots that might or might not be suitable, I’ve selected what seemed quite a reasonable option.  Since there was a guy working immediately next door, I thought I’d do well to ask.  So I prepped Google Translate with “Would it be safe to put a tent here to sleep the night?  Would it be ok, or would someone mind?”

It turned out that this guy, Nazar, is the owner of a factory next to my proposed impromptu camp, and he speaks English very well so that my prep was redundant.  Nazar’s father’s name is “Su” and his mother’s “San”.  So – for reasons that still elude Nazar – his father gave him the birth “gift” of a full name “Nazar Susan”, with the new family name simply combining mum’s and dad’s.  Just “Susan” to his friends, and pronounced “Soo-San”.  Kinda cute, except Nazar is very conscious he’s got a girl’s name.  “Susan” sees the funny side without my help, so it would have been redundant to point out that there’s a song about exactly this, and so I refrained.  I did have a laugh on the inside, knowing I’ve met “the real deal”!

After checking with his wife it was declared it would be fine for me to camp.  It turns out it is in fact Susan’s land.  So I’m kinda glad I asked!

Nazar’s factory is quite something.  They do a little woodwork, but mostly metal work.  “Susan” has made two CNC routers that can manufacture oxyacetylene and other welding and cutting on a 2m x 6m plate.  In fact he’s made most of the heavy equipment in the place, which is an astounding achievement.  If he needs it – he makes it.  That simple.  Impressive.

Given all of that, and since I’d already been bold asking if I could put my tent up, I further asked if he’d be able to do a better job of repairing the bike panniers from the damage a week back.  His team have done just that!  They’re still not (quite) perfect, but now waterproof and shut almost properly.  Wow.  Refused payment, too.  What an amazing discovery – accomodation and repairs all in one.  My new mate Susan is an all-round great bloke, too.  And (putting aside the general rubbish in the area and the constant droning from the mosques), I’ve landed in a beautiful, peaceful place about 3 mins ride from the ferry.  Could that get any better?  Well yes, actually.  Later Susan dropped by with a bite of dinner for me and for him, which we shared before he and his family ducked off to the pre-Ramadan prayers.

Competing only in name with the droning from mosques, my own drone (boom! boom!) also did a bit of flying around this beautiful area, much to the delight of Susan’s children (or maybe random community children; not sure).

I’ve walked to the village to get some fruit and two nasi goreng for the ferry tomorrow.  I have come to quite enjoy the translation saga, as slow as it is and frustrating as one could choose to find it.  But it can be a fun form of engagement all in itself, knowing that the phone will get the message across eventually.

I continue to find Indonesians warm, incredibly hospitable, kind, and helpful.  I think (hope) Aussies are warm and friendly, with a degree of hospitable about them (us), but I don’t think we hold a candle to how far out of their way Indonesians will go to volunteer help above and beyond what is asked or hoped for.

It is a delightful mid-twenties (ie beautifully cool), there’s a thunderstorm somewhere close with lighting flashing brightly and reflecting across the ocean cove just 5 metres in front of me (but no rain forecast).  Other than the mosquitos and mosques (one louder than the other, but otherwise remarkably similar on several counts), and because I can’t see the rubbish in the dark, it is all quite idyllic.

Strike that about the rain.  I’ve just had to reconvene to keep my diary (iPad) dry, finishing up in the tent’s cosy confines with a gentle rain pattering on my canvas.  With at least three mosques blaring in competing nasal, awful tones non-stop since 8pm – and it is now 9:30pm.

The mosquito (sorry – I mean mosque) competition continued right through the night, blaring away with what I suspect devolved into gibberish as the yellers wearied themselves from their own lack of sleep.  It certainly delivered the lack-of-sleep outcome for me.

Nonetheless I was up just before 7am, and at the ferry terminal in time for the 9am.  It left at 11:30am.  Sigh.  Coulda had a go at making up for some of that sleep.  The ferry is crowded, presumably carrying everyone who wanted to travel today and everyone who wanted to travel yesterday.

I’m looking forward to putting my feet up for a bit at Lupo’s in Bali, and hoping his couch-bed won’t be too close to any mosques!

Leave a Reply

Get the latest news from Daniel on his journey

Just shoot us your email. Thanks. :-)

    © 2022 Powered by VIP Mission Hosting