Bali to Lombok, Indonesia – A new day. A new adventure. I think that’s why I love travelling so much. Everyday you can wake up excited at the prospect of genuinely not knowing what you might see or what you might experience. Today was no exception.
It was our final day in Bali. After a leisurely breakfast over looking the ocean illuminated in glorious sunshine, we waved goodbye to some fellow travellers and the rest boarded a public ferry for the five hour journey to Lombok. I was not looking forward to this prospect, even less so when I found out the seats inside were already cramped with locals most of whom were puffing on cigerattes. Within seconds I was choking at the smell. Aimlessly I searched for a small corner of smoked free refuge. My guide sent me upstairs where I found an empty space at the front of the boat. I grabbed a mattress and staked my claim. This would do for fives hours.
I buried my nose in a book, but not long into the journey there was some commotion from the captains cabin. Several of the stewards came running out pointing over the edge. I leaped up to see what was going on and was confronted with the most spectacular and amazing sight Ive ever seen. Surrounding the boat was a large school of dolphins. There must have been hundreds of them! I’d never seen these curious mammals so close before. They were playfully leaping out of the water not three feet from the boat. From the upper deck we could see them dive down deep in the crystal blue waters and swim next to us before piercing the water again. We watched them for what seemed like 15 minutes. They looked like they were having so much fun. The child in me giggled and awed through ever second. It was such an unexpected sight on what was to be a long dull journey.
I think I must be getting used to long journeys as it didn’t seem long before we were un boarding the ferry and loafing back up on the bus again for the two hours transfer to the hotel. Instantly your could see that Lombok, although still a part of Indonesia was different than its neighbouring islands of Java and Bali. Where Java was crowded, more commercial and Bali was spiritual, touristic, and charming, Lombok was definitively rural and Muslim. There was a mosque every few a hundred meters,many in the process of being built, and the houses once again were basic and bamboo clad. Chickens and goats more prolific.
Once we were settled in, a local village man aged 33 called my roommate and I off our porch for a chat. He then wanted to take us on a tour of his rice fields and the village of Tatanbete. As the sun began to set, my Norwegian roommate and I walked through the terraces observing the rice in various stages of growth and of various types. White rice. Sticky rice. Red rice. Rice paddy green is one of my favourite colours. The brilliant emerald so vibrant. So contrasting against the bright blue sky. Backed by Palm trees and volcanic hills, and sometimes the ocean in the opposite direction, it has to be for me the most magical and breathtaking of landscapes. The villagers warmly greeted us as we went by. And yet again I was humbled at their simple life. Their basic homes, little more than bamboo structures with concrete floors and mattresses on the ground. I don’t know if I could live like that.
Around another bend, our guide invited us to set with him on a bamboo hut to watch the sun set. In his good English, he offered, this is such a romantic place isn’t it? Indeed it was and the scenery was breathtaking, but given that shortly after our introduction he had mentioned he wanted a second wife I gently suggested our dinner would be ready soon so we should get back. Gratefully he obliged! As we meandered our way back through the rice terraces making our steps on the raised terraces the sing songy evening payers started bellow out of the surrounding mosques and the sun turned pink and began to set over thes rice fields, I couldn’t help but have a big smile on my face. It was yet another ‘good day’.
