Being on an island could describe the sensation of being trapped, of running around in circles. Like Johnny Cash, you have been everywhere, explored all the caves, inspected under every bushes and walked on every path. All around you is the ocean and you are certain: you have seen it all.
Under the rain or on a sunny day, the island have no mystery for you anymore.
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“I am Muslim!” Said proudly the taxi driver who was driving me from Ubud to Canggu. “And you?”
“Hmmm… I try to take what I think is the best from every religion, but I am not from one confession really!”
The taxi driver didn’t talk to me until the rest of the trip. He looked obviously upset! Whatever is your religion in Indonesia, you HAVE to have one.
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.
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I wanted to thanks Mylène for the interview. Braving the risk of storm growing up seriously, we went out for a drink in a fancy hotel facing the sea, few minutes by walk from our hostel. Yes, there is fancy fancy hotels in Nusa Lembogan. Maybe… Two or three. But still.
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Mylène was chilling next to the pool of our quiet hotel when I met her. She was reading a book and we gave each other a shy “hi”.
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“They are here! You are lucky guys!” Said my rasta diver instructor on the boat.
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Devil’s Tear is few meters away from Dream Beach. I spent the day by myself, on the scooter, exploring the island and even if I started to want to speak with somebody, I felt grateful for this extra time of loneliness on the top of the cliff, watching the rageous ocean kissing the shaped rocks.
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Ok, so… Dream beach was supposed to be the most beautiful spot of Nusa Lembogan…
So I took a selfie.
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When in Nusa Lembogan I decided to take the little paths, I discovered the back of the scene: the garbage treatment on an island. Where do you put your coca cola bottle when it’s empty and you live in the middle of the ocean?
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The weird look the gentleman gave me when I asked for a helmet with the scooter I just ranted him gave me a clue about how relaxed and chill people were on the island. No, you don’t need a helmet to drive here. No, you don’t need a driver license. But yes, you need strong arms and a dose of courage to ride on the bumpy roads. Said so, the path areso damaged and the scooter seemed so old that I never speeded more than 20 km/h in the end.
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The Wanderlust Queens Project 