A look at my bank account is telling me that it’s time to reduce the expenses. Not that I bought an extra bag of souvenirs or that I am filling up my stomach every night while emptying my wallet but comparing to the other countries I travelled so far in South East Asia, Indonesia is not the cheapest in terms of accommodations and traveling from a city to another.

It’s the eternal dilemma: should I spend all my money by buying tickets from hoping from an island to another or should I stay in this hostel for a long time cause that will make me save money… 
Like any kind of backpacker who is traveling for cheap and for a long time, I am attracted by the word “cheap” and not scared by the words… Well you guessed it: “long time”.

So when I planned my departure of the Gili Island to be back on my beloved Bali for my last week in Indonesia, I went to a small tourist shop to buy a ticket.
And listen well here, future backpacker… Here is the story that can happen to anybody. It will probably happen to me again even if I continue travelling like that for the rest of my life. Here is the tale of a mistake that everybody did, experimented traveler or newby.

The lady at the desk is really nice and she is proposing two plans for me:

1 – I will leave Gili in the morning and arrive in Ubub tomorrow night. All the boats and buses are included. It’s the cheapest plan.

2 – I will leave in the afternoon and arrive in Ubud tomorrow night. The speedboat and the bus are included. It’s like 5$ more.
Another tour on the speedboat is making me feel sea sick already.

So I took the cheapest plan (Spoiler alert: BIG MISTAKE). And here is the moral of the story: sometimes, you have to stop being cheap. Don’t ask me when or how you would know it, I bloody don’t know! Good luck to figure it out!
I will make it short cause nobody wants to hear a backpacker complaining. It’s ugly and unfair for those who can’t travel.

After a small boat under the rain, I lended on the shore of Lombocq. My other ticket is from this random cafe one kilometer away. I remember that everything is included so when everybody on the boat is hoping on the horses-carriage taxi and that one of the guy is taking my backpack on the sand and put it on his carriage I am suspicious but I let him do.

First, never let anybody touch your bag, second, is this guy working for the company I paid the tickets for or is he a normal taxi driver…?

I take two minutes to ask him if he is working for the company, that I have no money to give him because everything is included and oh, yeah, maybe repeating a thousand time that I will not give him any money. He is ok with that so I go in his carriage. At the end of the parking lot, he is asking me for money. I laugh and say that we agreed that he was working for the company I paid and that I had no money for him. He doesn’t seem to like it and angry, he throws my bags on the floor.

Ok. Fine, I am not letting this affecting my mood, I kind of felt it anyway and I am full of energy still so I put my backpacks on and here I am, walking on the side road of Lombocq, under a sun which is now as hot as in hell.
Sweating, I arrive in the coffee shop. The lady working here is not really sure if my bus passed already.

Here starts an hour of wondering if I ever will leave that coffee shop or if I will be stuck here forever…

That situation could be stressful, I have no power on what’s happening. I have no control. I saw an hypnotherapist in London before my trip who said to me that during the cavemen times, stress was helpful to save your life. In front of a life endanging situation you felt stress and then could react with two options: run away or fight. Nowadays, when your bus is late, you can’t fight, you can’t really run away… You just have to stay and wait. And feel the stress building up.

I like how the more you travel, the more you learn how to deal with stressful situations…
Anyway, people start to arrive in the coffee shop and after an hour and a half, a minivan arrived, who will pick up more and more people on the way until we all arrive at the big pier at the other side of Lombocq.

Two hours later, in this small van cruising on the bumpy roads, the sun baking us like a pressure cooker, a French guy sat down next to me.

He seemed really nice but I feel too uncomfortable to start to speak and meet new friends. My way of dealing with hot, long, transport time is to sleep. Once you find a cosy position, don’t move! If you do, you sweat, if you sweat you are loosing water and you stink. And then you stink until the rest of the trip and God knows when this trip will end.

  
We arrive in an hotel and the driver ask us to sit down in another van. I am like a little puppy who is following everybody, I don’t ask questions but I start to regret not to have paid few more dollars and the speedboat back to Bali.

I feel like we are driving around in circle and that I will never arrive in Ubud before I turn 80 years old. 
I try not to be too annoyed by the situation and I start to speak with the French guy.

His name is Malek and he left the South Of France few month ago. He is in the middle of a very very long world trip. I liked the way he is talking about France and the way he is travelling. So we stick together when the van drop us at the pier.

Having a travel buddy, even for a bit during a very long trip is not that bad in the end… Also, he is watching the Walking Dead. I have a new friend.

Time is not distorted anymore and the very slow boat trip doesn’t seems that bad in the end. Also, a big advantage: you don’t have to leave your big backpack in a middle of nowhere while you are using the restroom. Having somebody to take care of your stuff is pretty nice!
Malek has a problem on his foot. He told me he jumped somewhere and a rock attacked him and well. It got infected.

We talked about how it is to travel in a Muslim country, when you are Muslim and what are the reasons he decided to discover the world. We also realized that month ago, before my trip, we actually talked online! I posted my first article on a Facebook page for travelers and Malek contacted me, to wish me good luck!

Once again, the work is small. Oh so small.

We arrive on land and I say goodbye to Malek who is going on another city. He knows Ubud very well and recommend an hostel. Denis’ Guesthouse.
Some people who forgot their smile in their bed this morning ask few of the backpackers around to jump in a van. I hope it will be the last kind of transport I will take today…