The boat I took from Nusa Lembogan to the Gili Islands stopped in Lomboq to unload some passengers. We stayed at the small pier for half an hour because of police control.

  

Now, it’s time for me to reveal a terrible secret… I am scared to death of the police. I don’t know where that comes from… The uniforms, the authority figure or maybe all the terrible stories of backpackers who were unlucky to meet corrupted policemen? I am not saying that the majority of policemen here are not good cops, but I’ve learned during this trip how to react if I’m getting arrested one day. 

“Directly turn upside down all your pockets to avoid somebody to put anything in there after you got arrested.”

” Never give your id, passport or driver Licence, to anybody in the street, just showing is enough.”

” Try to negotiate the fees and never show that you have more money than what you say you have.”

” Remove the keys from your scooter if you are stopped on the side of the road and put them on yourself to avoid them being confiscated…”

And so on…

  

Anyway, on this boat, that day, two policemen arrived and were mimicking searching passengers’ bags. Yes, mimicking… They were politely asking if they could open a bag, ask somebody to take a picture of them doing this action with their own camera, politely closing the bags. They actually looked really nice but I was still freaking out. Stories of people being “mules” out of their knowledge is a reality, not a legend, and I don’t have to remind you that the death Penalty for drug abuse or dealing is a real thing in Indonesia?

  

Everytime I had to cross a border, take the plane or being randomly checked by the police in any kind of country, my heart was usually racing. Not because I was caring any kind of forbidden substances, more because even if I packed my bag myself, I felt never a 100% sure that nobody had  secretly placed anything in my bag. Maybe I’m a psycho, maybe I’m just careful. 

  

The very liberated attitude of the policemen on this boat and what I read in my lonely planet about the Gili Islands started to ring a bell. Lomboq’s small pier was the last time I saw policeman for the entire time of my visit on the Gili islands. 

  

I jumped from the boat, both feet on the warm pale sand of Gili Trawangan, intimately called Gili T. I grabed my backpacks (they were violently ejected from the small boat early on) and started to walk nonchalantly in the small streets. Sometimes, I had to move to the side of the flooded muddy roads to let the horses pass. No cars or scooters allowed here, you can take a horse cab, rent a beach bike or use the oldest way of transport if you can: your legs.

  

I knew I could have a good deal for a room here. I noticed quickly that the island looks pretty deserted. Gili T is infamous for being a luxurious jungle island circled by paradisiac beaches where magic mushrooms and weed flourish at each corner of the streets. I could have compared it to Koh Phi Phi but Gili T is not just a party island. While I was staying here, I wanted to understand the secrets and the hidden reasons of why and how locals were accepting this kind of buzzed tourism, so far from their own culture and religion.

  

I finally choose a place among the 12 beds dorm in the Gili T Divers guesthouse. I felt like I had the best deal of the island and it was probably true. I will stay here, for three nights for a minuscule amount of money, completely by myself (no other backpackers in my room!), jumping in the nice swimmingpool when it was too hot to stay dry but too rainy to venture into the open sea. It was walking distance to the night market, in front of this nice coffee on the beach where I was taking my breakfasts.

  

Marion, my French friend (see her interview here!) stayed on the island for a couple of weeks and gave me few addresses. She noted under her “Casa Vintage” tip : it’s just for the pleasure of the eyes, absolutely forbidden to buy anything from here, you are a backpacker! Thanks to her, I followed her suggestion (it was hard…) and instead of having a really nice dress (the same price than I would have bought it in London), I had money for every meal assured for the rest of my trip!

  

A Thrift shop in Gili T, the street art in Yogjakarta, the skatepark in Canggu, the concerts in Semyniak, the bio and delicious vegan food in Ubud… Do I really need another example to prove that Indonesia is the most hipster place on earth? And no offense here, at the opposite, I am pretty impressed each day by how Indonesia is kicking western stereotypes in the ass. I am, myself, guilty of having thought before my trip that Indonesia will be a conservative place, not so much focused on the “important” matters of biology or vegan food, into vintage fashion or independent, alternative music. (Check out Jirapah – Crown!)

  

At the same time, Indonesia knows how to keep their traditions and they are proud of their story, religions, culture…

Did I say that I LOVE Indonesia?
  
  

The Mosque next to my hostel

  

Gili T divers guesthouse