Gilis

Gili Air, Gili Meno, Gili Trawangan – three small islands lying North of Lombok. Known for its laid back atmosphere, small population and an absence of any motor vehicles. The islands have been popular among backpackers for years, but in the recent years they got attention from more upscale travellers, which resulted in the rapid development and price spikes making Bali look like a budget destination. Geography wise Trawangan has a small hill in the centre of the island, Meno boasts a salt lake with mangrove trees and Air has nothing. All the three islands are surrounded by coral reefs, which make swimming challenging especially during the low tide.

The islands are very close to each other. The shortest distance between the islands is some 600 meters, but swimming is not possible due strong unpredictable and potentially fatal currents. In fact when we were there, three people died (two of which were Finnish) when attempted to swim across. Interestingly enough one of the locals advised us to swim from Meno to Trawangan instead of taking a boat and was genuinely surprised, when heard about the deaths. That confirmed once again that locals can be clueless beyond belief.

Air

Air was the most pleasant of the three. We spent six days there and could easily spend more. There is not much to do apart from diving and snorkelling, but that is totally ok. Time flies differently there and having nothing to do feels as an advantage. Why do anything indeed, when you can get by without resorting to any activities just fine? Breakfast in the morning, lunch in the afternoon and dinner in the evening. Swimming, walking and chilling out in between. Why bother with anything else? Slow life at its best, even if the time flies fast.

Trawangan

Trawangan was the whole different matter. We arrived there on a Saturday morning and it immediately turned us off. Full of local day trippers from Lombok, galloping horse carts and douchebag party vibe all around was enough to not spend more than one night there. Walking away from all this madness into the more secluded parts of the island redeemed things a bit. Stopping for an ice coffee in a posh, but eerily deserted beach bar with no customers other than us was in particular pleasant. Not a waste of time after all, but I see no reason to go there again.

Meno

Meno is the most deserted of the trio. We arrived to the island with a boat full of people, who disappeared mysteriously after the landing and were not seen again. A lot of mosquitoes though. “Finish” and “no have” were heard here more than the usual with some local restaurants had basic ingredients missing like fruits. There is a fair share of abandoned resorts, which contribute to the desert island atmosphere. There is something majestic in seeing the remnants of the former glory. Despite all this Meno made a good impression. The beaches there are the nicest and the most accessible of the bunch. This deserted atmosphere and the beaches call for staying on the island for a couple of days before moving to Air. Trawangan can be left out of the equation, unless one feels adventurous.

A young rastaman and his mother on their way to Gili Air

Kids playing in the rain on Gili Air

Rural idyll on Gili Air

Each island has got its own solar panel farm. It seems it is the only electricity source, as diesel generators were nowhere to be seen

Kids bathing on Gili Air

Boating, canoeing and wake boarding.

Boats waiting on the beach of Trawangan

It can get rather windy on Trawangan

Goats hiding from the pouring rain on Gili Trawangan.

Shapes of unknown origin and purpose were spotted on the beach of Trawangan. Anybody have any idea what these are?

An eery, but stylish deserted bar on Trawangan.

An abandoned resort on Gili Meno

A "big snake" was caught on Meno. It was big indeed.

Yaya Warung, the best restaurant on Meno. Cheap prices, tasty food and occasional live music.

Indonesian business skills

A taxi driver with a sign “Do you need a taxi for today?” in Ubud. “No”. The guy promptly shows the reverse side, which says: “How about tomorrow?”

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Walking back home after having a dinner on Gili Air. Another restaurant’s door-man: “A dinner?”. Me patting on the stomach: “Already had one”. “How about a second dinner?”

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Kuta Beach. Drinks hawker pointing at a basic plastic chair in the shade (one of hundreds on the beach): “Hey have a seat in the romantic chair.”

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Padang Bai. First trip outside after my sunglasses got broken. It took less than five minutes for a hawker to appear out of nowhere with sunglasses for sale. Sold.

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“YES! Shopping?”

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Almost everybody tries to sell you something. Transport, a massage, show tickets, a room, food, drinks, batik, sarongs, jewellery, mushrooms, a motorbike for rent, stuff you don’t really need and what not. Even if they don’t sell, they almost certainly know somebody who is selling. Buying does not get easier than this.

Sometimes it feels like Indonesians are able to read thoughts. They almost certainly know where we head to and offer transportation accordingly. After Ijen we were going to Lombok, but every local assured us we were going to Bali instead. Turned out they were right, we ended up in Ubud. When looking for accommodation, it does not take long for someone to offer you one. Backpacks are clearly a giveaway, but it is still impressive. Many locals correctly guess that I am Russian without hearing me speak my mother tongue. I hear locals shouting my name “Roman” on a constant basis. It probably means something else in Bahasa (can someone solve this mystery?), but it feels like my name is public knowledge. Amazing.

Eat, Pray, Shop

Ubud was horrid and nice at the same time. The “Eat, Pray, Love” book and the subsequent movie, one of the episodes of which takes place in Ubud, did the town no good. Apparently in just under two years Ubud has transformed drastically. Nowadays a typical visitor is a 30-something yoga woman with a broken heart in search of either spiritual enlightenment or a true love. The centre of Ubud is one touristic trap with myriads of shops, restaurants and spas. Add constant nagging by taxi drivers, restaurant staff and spa girls and it becomes unbearable at times.

It is very beautiful though. Everywhere you look you find the polished eye candy. Rivendell like bridges, moss clad statues, numerous picturesque temples, evergreen rice fields and a deep canyon that cuts through Ubud. In particular Monkey Forest is impressive – a piece of jungle, full of stunning architecture and cheeky monkeys ready to steal your belongings, right in the middle of the town. Once you get out of the horrid centre for a second and venture into rice fields, it gets really tranquil with almost Zen like qualities. Even hawkers out there are laid-back and fun to chat with. A coconut seller was so eager to show me to a swimming place in the river and what most amazing did not expect any money for that. A rare quality in such a place.

Ubud has left me with mixed emotions. On one hand I like to forget Ubud as a commercial nightmare, but on the other hand I would not mind to spend more time in the suburbs enjoying the slow life and beautiful scenery.

A fairytale like bridge in Ubud

Rice paddies in the surroundings of Ubud

This is how rice grows

Even palms are premium in Ubud

A thirsty dog

The typical Bali

A picturesque path on top of the Ubud canyon

A monkey family chilling in Monkey Forest

A thirsty monkey. Surprisingly enough it did not like coke that much

More monkeys

No monkeys wild or not were spotted beyond the sign

Statues and monkeys

A lonely monkey

Moss covered statues of Monkey Forest. The park has got dedicated staff that cleans up the moss.

Waiting for a ride out of Ubud in the early morning.

The sulphur mines of Ijen

The first time I learned about Ijen was in the movie Samsara (the sequel to Baraka). At that time it was just an exotic location some place far away. In a hostel in Jakarta I saw a clip from the BBC documentary “Human Planet”, which featured similar footage from Ijen. It put Ijen on the map for me, but still we had no concrete plans visiting it. Nor we had any idea it was possible to visit it. On the way to Bromo, we made a stopover at a tourist agency, where a cunning businessman told us about Ijen and happily sold a package tour to Bali via Ijen. Even though it seems we paid a little too much for the deal in the vulnerable mental state after an exhausting 10 hour journey, Ijen was totally worth it and in fact it was the highlight of Java for me. As with other volcanoes the best time to visit Ijen is during the dry season (from May to October). Although we couldn’t enjoy the views over Ijen due heavy impenetrable clouds, a trip down the crater fully compensated it.

The road from the nearby village to the crater is about 3,5km. All the way up.

Despite the warning most of the tourists descend down the crater and guides readily offer their help

There are about 200 miners working at the mine

Workers start early in the morning before the sun rise and make two trips a day

Miners carry loads from 75kg to 90kg

Up to 300m from the bottom of the crater and then 3km back to the village

Most workers do not wear proper respiratory protection. Some workers wear flip-flops in this quite demanding terrain

The water of the lake at the bottom of the crater is hot, but very acidic. Swimming is not advised

The bottom of the crater is full of toxic sulphur fumes

Quite a hell down there, but at the same time it is amazingly beautiful.

Sulphur fumes cool down into the solid form, which is collected by the workers.

There is no work automatisation of any kind. A simple mechanical elevator would help a lot, but no, everything is done scrupulously by hand.

Once out of the crater the load is weighed and then must be carried back to the village

Workers typically make $13 a day

Unlike it was pictured in Samsara, the atmosphere is very cheerful. Workers sing, make jokes and bum cigarettes. Protip: bring a pack of cigarettes with you for additional karma.

Bromo-Tengger-Semeru national park

Java has not got that many attractions given its size, but one of the must see things is Bromo-Tengger-Semeru national park. Situated in the East Java, it is a 12 hours intense bus ride away from Yogyakarta. The entry point to the national park is Cemoro Lawang, a sleepy village with not much to offer. Half of the village population is focused on farming potatoes and onions, while the other half caters tourists. It was windy and cold, especially in the night-time. Made us forget sometimes that we were in fact in a tropical country and not Lapland in the summertime. Here I experienced for the first time an altitude sickness with head-aches and fever. Any kind of exercise like walking uphill made me feel very out of shape. That took place at the altitude of 2500m. I shudder to think what it feels like at higher altitudes.

The volcano itself and the surrounding Moon-like landscape is simply stunning. Numerous travel agencies organise sunrise tours to one of the viewpoints, but we skipped that and opted for a day-trip to the crater and back. A wise choice in the retrospect as there was nothing to see in the morning due to heavy clouds. The crater itself is shrouded with sulphur vapours (read: the intense smell of rotten eggs everywhere). Although there is nothing much to see inside the crater apart from the vapour, the view over the valley was well-worth the exhausting walk through a dust-storm and almost a ruined camera. Note for the future dust storms and cameras do not mix, no matter how stunning scenery is.

Cemoro Lawang, a village closest to Bromo. Cool climate and highland lifestyle.

At times it feels like Russian countryside with crumbling infrastructure

And potato fields

Except that locals carry things on their heads

The entrance to the Bromo valley

Bromo on the left, Batok on the right

The mighty Batok. I have never realized that a volcano can look like in cartoons

There was a dust storm so we had to improvise with the gear

The river bed that flowing lava made back in the day

Local teenagers come here with their scooters for a day-trip

A view over the valley from the top of the crater. There is something beautiful that they built a temple in a place like this. If the volcano erupts, it will be most definitely destroyed.

Local teenagers insisted to take a picture of them.

And this is what walking through a dust/ash storm does to you.

My ego traps

a journey into the centre of the heart

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