I’m not sure what was more uncomfortable, standing there knowing I was being scammed (twice) or peeing out of my butt for two days in a row. Either way, it was all happening in Morocco.
Distilling the essence of “The Western Kingdom” is difficult since I had such a mixed experience, not to mention I was only there for 12 days. My exposure to the country was limited to the specific cities and activities I did.
To start with, I was inundated with shades of orange among the dirt roads and walls of the old cities. That ever-present color palette created the perception of sandy air. It’s like there was a desert nearby or something.
Even though I didn’t have enough time for a proper trip out to the Sahara, I saw a decent amount of barren landscapes on day excursions and train rides. Side note: public transportation a la buses and trains was surprisingly simple and reliable. However, certain passenger trains had small cabins with two rows of seats facing each other. That was quite crammed, when you factor in that many people ignore their ticketed seat assignment and sit wherever they feel like. That being said, my trips were more or less on time and adhered to the estimated duration.
Back to the architecture. The construction of the medinas seemed drab at first, but unique patterns started to reveal themselves upon closer look. The sophisticated detail of mosques and palaces was a joy to admire. Small elements showcased the French, Spanish and Portuguese influences. Outside the kasbahs, modern museums, apartments, and sport complexes were sprouting up in the larger cities. The contrast must be confusing for birds flying overhead.
Apart from the buildings, the souks are a congested tapestry of handmade figurines, colorful spices, knockoff apparel, and…well, tapestries. Though these markets are oft crowded and a risk for pickpockets, each walk through provides an opportunity to see, hear, or smell something new. Continually discovering new stalls, listening to painful negotiations, and inhaling the scent of freshly blended citrus was like being part of a complex ecosystem. I can’t count how many times I was called “Ali Baba” either. Apparently it means “strong man” or something in that ball park. But the definition was given to me by a guy running a scam, so I’m not sure he was a reliable source. Besides the flattering nickname, I was called Spanish, Italian, German, and even Chinese at one point. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Speaking of the people, this is another area where I’m hot and cold. The proprietors of the hostel I stayed in were incredibly generous, intelligent and interesting. Their easygoing vibe set a good standard at the beginning of my time in Marrakech.
From there, my impression began to deteriorate. In the streets and souks, I feel like they saw foreigners as walking dirham. While one vendor could be aggressive about getting your business, another would stand firm on an outlandish price. If it wasn’t someone trying to sell you something, it was a deceitful “friend” attempting, and sometimes succeeding, at wrapping you up in an elaborate con.
One contingency of people that were completely pleasant were the ex-pats. In every city I visited, there seemed to be a healthy community of middle-aged French or Spanish couples. Perhaps they’re content with life because they moved to a place where their retirement money will have a longer runway. Regardless, both groups are navigating the mixture of cultures with class.
*Mint tea photo courtesy of Jud Mason
To end on a high note, I have to mention the cuisine. I’m talking about tajine. I’m talking about cous cous. I’m talking about mint tea. I was either unfamiliar or uninterested in all of those things before my visit. Now, I’m an avid fan. It doesn’t get much better than spiced meat and vegetables slow-cooked in a special clay pot. As a shocking revelation, mint tea was the preferred beverage of choice between my friend Jud and I. Not beer. Somehow not beer. I can’t forget about the abundance of shawarma as well. Always delicious, occasionally detrimental to the digestive tract. It was a staple meal for us, while also being ridiculously affordable.
The cost of food and beverage in Morocco is actually an interesting topic — there was an incredible range in price depending on the establishment. It’s not groundbreaking that street meat was cheap, around $2.50 USD for a wrap with fries and tea. Alternatively, a meal at a nicer restaurant was closer to $15-$20. Still a reasonable price when you compare that to an outing back home, but it’s expensive when you’re on a traveler’s budget. Lastly, a liter of beer was over $10. Hey, I never said I didn’t have any beer. That’s almost an Oktoberfest rate and I found it absurd. It went down easy though.
So, now you might be asking yourself if I would recommend a trip to Morocco. Honestly, it’s difficult to say. Just because I had a mediocre experience doesn’t mean everyone will. I know people that have thoroughly enjoyed themselves. I will say this: my next jaunt to Africa will be elsewhere. Maybe I would have a different opinion if I had more beer and less diarrhea.
By the Numbers
Days in Morocco: 12 AirBnBs: 3 Public Transportation Rides: 10 Camel Rides: 1 Medinas Visited: 4 Barbershops Seen: Infinite MAD Spent: ~$3,889.71 USD Spent: ~$403.24 (Conversion rate of 9.646)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
It’s the Croatian coastal term for “the art of doing nothing.” I got into it. I got used it to. I enjoyed the hell out of it.
Croatia was runner-up at the most recent World Cup, as all the football/soccer fans out there would know. For those unaware, maybe you’re familiar with Yacht Week and all the glorious sailing? Still no? How about the birth place of the cravat? Ok, surely you knew that many Games of Thrones scenes were filmed in Dubrovnik then? I knew about 3 of the 4. As a frequent cravat wearer, I had no clue about Games of Thrones, obviously. What even is that?
While I didn’t make it down to Dubrovnik to experience the majesty of the King’s Landing set, I visited 3 other major cities throughout the country.
ZAGREB
I started in the capital city of Zagreb, not far from the Slovenian border. As I was recovering from Oktoberfest, I laid low for a few days. I literally only left the hostel to find food. I was also catching up on some freelance work and overall life admin.
Eventually, I decided to go on the free walking tour to learn about my surroundings. This revealed two legends: one about the checkerboard design used on the flag (a chess victory over the Italian King) and the origin of the city’s name (a love story of a girl grabbing water for a military general). Let’s not forget the gem about the cravat either.
We entered through the stone gate, visited St. Mark’s church, and watched the traditional firing of the canon at noon. While there was no canon ball projectile, there was a legit sound of the blast. Incredibly loud and unexpected.
Another notable thing I did was visit The Museum if Broken Relationships, which was started by a former Croatian couple. It is what it sounds like: a collection of items and first-hand accounts that tell the story of breakups from all over the world. Some were humorous, some were tragic, and some were unquestioningly odd. Like the 27 year old scab that someone’s partner saved. Love really knows no bounds.
ZADAR
My next stop was a few hours due south to the coastal settlement of Zadar. While the old town was very compact, it can best be described by one of my favorite adjectives — cozy.
It was a collection of narrow pathways and alleys that created a maze. Think Venice without the canals. That’s actually an accurate example since it was under Venetian rule several times throughout history.
There was an ancient forum in the center of town, circa 48 BC, that was mostly in ruins. Still, there were plenty of churches and old stone buildings to be amazed by. In addition to the historical landmarks, there were also two modern installations by the water. One was a series of tubes and steps built out into the Adriatic Sea that made music based on the waves.
Just a few feet away was a big digital sun set into the ground. It played a light show to keep everyone entertained after the incredible sunset had finished. On that subject, Alfred Hitchcock is on record saying that Zadar has the most beautiful sunsets in the world. Thanks for the tip, man. I did partake in viewing my fair share. No complaints.
For a one day excursion, I took a trip out to Plitvice National Park to see some nature. I didn’t even consider that the autumn colors would be in full effect. It was a gorgeous day to soak in the vibrant array of greens and oranges. Walking next to calm, reflective lakes and intricately shaped waterfalls was a pleasant way to spend a few hours walking.
SPLIT
I kept the coastal vibes flowing by continuing my tour down to Split. This was a more popular destination for tourist as it’s bigger and more of a hub for cruise ships and various island hopping.
The old town here was larger and impressive, the main palace dating back to the 4th century before the Christians came and gave it an update in the 1300s.
There were still tight winding avenues to get lost in, but also bigger promenades to accommodate the influx of people during peak season.
Split was established on a peninsula that has a modest hill you can quickly hike to enjoy a panoramic view of the landscape. I was too late to catch the literal sun setting thanks to daylight savings throwing me off, but that didn’t take away from the spectacle. I saw orange bouncing off the inland mountain range that hugs the city. A soft gradient of yellow outlined the peaks and gradually transitioned to blue. Opposite that, layers of pink and purple hovered above the water and blanketed the islands. Noice.
This is where I embraced fjaka. I went to the beach and just existed for a while. The beaches here are beds of small stones. At first I was skeptical, but I must say it gets my vote above sand. I wasn’t toting 10,000 grains with me for days after I left. Sure, it was a bit less comfortable to lay on, but with a proper towel or blanket it’s all good. I thought I’d missed out on swimming since it was deep into fall. On the contrary. Plenty of locals were taking refreshing dips so I did as well. While the water was by no means warm, it was totally manageable in the Mediterranean sun. Clear and salty. The fish were curious but seemed fine sharing.
After the much appreciated relaxation and vitamin D top up, I made arrangements to travel to Bosnia & Herzegovina. I wasn’t really aware of it as an option months ago, but fellow backpackers had good things to say. Might as well.
A mind is like a parachute. It doesn’t work if it’s not open.
Frank Zappa
That was randomly pulled from the internet. Sounds good though.
I was in Thailand for two weeks and it’s been over two weeks since I’ve written anything about it, so here’s the most comprehensive play by play I can swing.
I took the #9 sleeper train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai to start. It’s a relatively new service, so the train was very clean and comfortable. I traveled 2nd class, which meant an air conditioned car with a bunk and privacy curtain. It made the 13 hour journey a breeze. Almost literally, because I was getting a little chilly from the AC — something that is rarely, if ever, said in this part of the world. There was an older Chinese gentleman that chatted me up in the morning before we arrived.
At 7am, we pulled into Chiang Mai. Since I couldn’t check into my room yet, I did a little bit of exploring. I was staying just outside of the old city — there is legitimately an ancient square perimeter wall delineating the city center.
Even though Chiang Mai is a popular destination in northern Thailand, there weren’t really any skyscrapers or a traditional downtown. On first glance, it was a comfy place. I saw some nice, modern apartments while walking down a few alleys. I quickly had the thought I could live there…without having seen any of the surrounding areas. I suppose it makes sense because I found out later that it’s the digital nomad capital of the world. I believe they’re mostly concentrated in another neighborhood that I ventured through a few days later.
That evening, I settled into my room and chatted with a few other travelers there. Me and Mike, a future digital nomad from Canada, went to a nearby night market that evening to try some stewed pork leg from “The Cowboy Hat Lady,” who has an infamous street food stall, possibly in part to Anthony Bourdain’sParts Unknown episode (RIP).
In the morning, I woke up early for a half-day visit to an elephant sanctuary that was over an hour drive outside the city. A group of 17 of us got to feed, trek, bathe and swim with 5 elephants, 3 of which were youngish. The place was ethical in that they never forced the elephants to do anything they didn’t want to do. The owner also explained that culturally, riding elephants isn’t really that inhumane (he compared it to a mosquito landing on a human’s arm), but in certain areas, the elephants are being worked 24 hours a day hauling lumber and whatever else. Putting them into a more natural habitat and allowing them to live at will is obviously a better situation though.
It was intimidating at first to be around such large and imposing animals. They wanted every banana immediately. Eventually when we were bathing and swimming with them, it was awesome. I was much less worried about being stepped on even though I couldn’t see where exactly they were under the water.
That evening, Mike and I took a trip to Doi Suthep which is a very prominent Buddhist temple up on a mountain. Our plan was to take some pictures and catch the sunset. Sadly, it was pretty overcast, but the temple had a lot of interesting nooks and crannies. There was also some kind of ceremonial dance going on that we weren’t expecting. A very unique happenstance.
When we got back into town, we ate some delectable Khao Soi, the region’s popular dish, consisting of chicken coconut curry and egg noodles. So rich and savory. I snagged this a few more times at various restaurants before I headed south.
We made the rounds for a while and then submitted to the heat. I made a tattoo appointment and got a massage before retreating inside.
The subsequent day, Mike and I set out to check out some of the temples within the old city. Temples on temples on temples. I don’t think it’s a fair argument to say once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. There are a lot of similarities between the ones that I’ve visited, but there’s also usually something very unique to draw your attention. In Thailand, specifically, there’s always some kind of gold-wrapped structure in the middle that gives a really grand feeling.
That night Mike and I went to the Muay Thai fights at the local stadium. I didn’t feel great about it. There were 6 bouts and for the first 4, the fighters seemed like kids. The betting amongst the locals was an experience to witness. I didn’t risk my own money, but I saw a British guy find success a few times. At the end of the night, two guys/teens got KO’d and one kid maybe broke his arm. There was barely anybody there to spectate too.
For my last full day in Chiang Mai, I wandered around Nimmanhaemin (digital nomad area), ventured into their swanky shopping mall, and got a sak yant tattoo.
I was turned onto the concept by Kaitlin, who I met in Cambodia and toured Angkor Wat with. A sak yant is a magical Buddhist design that is blessed by a monk. There are many different designs with different meanings and required body placements, and there’s a set of rules that accompanies receiving one.
Originally, I wasn’t planning on getting any tattoos abroad, primarily so I could use that money on travel. But the way these tattoos are delivered was something I wouldn’t be able to get at home. Traditionally, a monk would use a bamboo rod and needle to apply the design by hand using a dotting method. This particular shop used stainless steel for sanitary reasons — a call that I appreciated. Apparently so did Angelina Jolie. I found out she got a few done at the same shop.
Anyway, the design I decided on means kindness, compassion, peace and love. The experience wasn’t as formal or ceremonial as I thought it would be but I’m still really happy I did it. The tattooing process was probably about 30 minutes. It felt about the same as a normal tattoo, in my opinion. The most impressive thing was the speed and precision. It’s definitely imperfect since it was done by hand, but that’s part of the charm and authenticity. I initially wanted a different design and placement but I’m stoked on what I received.
Following the fresh ink, I caught an amazing sunset from the hostels rooftop bar and prepared to catch an early flight in the morning.
For some reason, there are no direct flights from Chiang Mai to Phuket, so I spent practically a full day traveling down to one of the islands off the west coast of the country.
I was staying in Patong Beach which I found out was kind of a party town. Bangla Road was a shorter version of Backpacker Street in Saigon — an insane amount of people, bars, performers and vendors all turning out at night to create a crazy spectacle. This time, it included a more noticeable amount of ladyboys.
The hostel I was staying in was nice, but very quiet. Maybe 10 people staying there total. Since it wasn’t quite the social environment I was looking for, I hopped on Tinder to see what I could find. I ended up meeting two different girls the first night and it basically went downhill from there.
One of them took me on an impromptu visit to two popular sights on the island – the Big Buddha and Chalong Temple. Then I treated her to a bbq buffet to repay the kindness. That was an experience because it’s an all-you-can-eat situation that you have to cook at the table yourself. There was varying types of meat in containers everywhere, so I tried not to think about the sanitary standards as best I could.
We returned to Patong and talked on the beach for a while before calling it an evening. It was a really good afternoon/night. Like a silly goose, I rearranged my plans to extend my stay.
There wasn’t much in the immediate area, and I couldn’t spend time in the sun or water because of the new tattoo, so my activity options were limited. It was a consideration I ignored while following a good feeling.
A few days later, after nothing eventful, I did an islands tour so I could at least see some of what I failed to visit. It promised a ton of cool sounding stops and snorkeling, which was an ideal day.
The weather was a let down for the first time since I’d been south. It rained in the morning which made the snorkeling conditions disappointing. After a choppy as hell boat ride that nearly destroyed my balls, we got to Monkey Beach. Except there was no beach so it wasn’t really a stop. Another disappointment. When we arrived on Phi Phi, the sun finally came out. It was the lunch stop though, so there wasn’t really much time to do any sort of island exploring. I was distracted but trying to make friends with some of the younger Americans on the tour. Next we went to “Viking Cave.” There was an old shipwreck inside the cave except we didn’t stop or even really get close to it. Disappointment. After another extended boat ride, we went to Koh Khai Nai. It was a really small island dedicated for beach chilling. It was low season and still got overrun with tourists shortly after we got there. Also, every 6 seconds a vendor approached trying to sell some sort of beer, food or clothing. Overall, I was happy to get out on the water but expected a lot more from the tour. If i hadn’t gotten it for a third of the brochure price thanks to a Tinder match, I might’ve lost my shit.
The sunsets from Patong Beach were really a saving grace. I enjoyed a handful that helped me forget any worries and enjoy the ebbs and flows.
I got a ride to the airport in the morning from another Tinder match. Pretty lucky situation. She was an awesome chick that I will hopefully stay in touch with.
So, after some extreme peaks and valleys on Phuket, I made it to Bangkok. I caught a very convenient bus to my hostel and was open to anything. This hostel was also quiet and I was the only in my room for a while.
I got some Pad Thai off the street and walked around the notorious Khaosan Road area. Another place that really came alive at night.
The next day I was sort of aimlessly exploring some nearby attractions when I was told about a holiday/promotion that meant certain tuk tuk drivers were only charging 10 baht. I hopped in one and was taken around to 3 different sights. I soon found out the catch, which was that I had to spend at least 10 minutes inside a tailor for my driver to get a coupon for gas. I was able to practice my indecision and stalling tactics long enough to make that happen, as uncomfortable as it was. Kind of a weird scam for the tuk tuk drivers to be running, but ok.
Since anytime between 12-6pm is basically unbearable outside, I spent the afternoon in some air conditioning hoping that my body would stop sweating. Side note: I’m down 15lbs again.
That night, I ended up rendezvousing with Davide (Italian I hung out with in Kampot) and Tamara (girl I met on the islands tour) for some beers and a foray into the seedy “adult playground” known as Nana Plaza. As the sex culture is widely on display there, I had to go see first hand what it was about.
It was weird.
Nana Plaza was basically a 3-story shopping center (using shopping quite literally, the girls were wearing numbers) of strips clubs and bars. We found out that you could pay to be with any of the girls you saw at any club. On the way out we were offered a trip to see a ping pong/fuck show, so that’s something. Also, there was a guy that quoted a cheaper price for an evening with a lady of your choosing. Honestly, I would’ve liked to see the pong show just to say I’ve done it. But in reality, I’m sure it would’ve been utterly sad, with maybe a hint of impressive. Fine with it in the end.
The next day, Tamara and I met up to see The Grand Palace (absurdly grand), Wat Pho and China Town. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned that it’s mother effing hot here. The sun was scorching and neither of us really ate breakfast. We somehow made it to 4pm and then were demolished. We found some street food and then parted ways to die slowly in our own accommodations.
Eventually I went to get my first legit Thai massage. It was about $8 for 1hr of pain-adjacent body kneading. I left feeling worse than I came in, which I guess means that my normal is exceptionally wrong. I got a back, shoulder and neck one in the morning thinking it would be more relaxing.
No.
It left me feeling even worse so I don’t know what to think. Maybe just go Swedish all the way.
That pretty much wraps up all of my activities in Thailand. I looked around a few markets and such but nothing too noteworthy. My “In Summary” post will have more analysis on the important stuff so keep an eye out for that.
Whether it’s Hindu or Muslim, Indonesian or Balinese, Nasi Goreng or Mie Goreng, Grab or GOJEK, slow ferry or fastboat, the Nusas or the Gilis — Bali (and Lombok) were an adventurous step in my travels.
I started to learn what Asia was like on the senses. A language barrier, a major customs difference and a semi-chaotic transportation system. There’s continuous pressure to enter every shop and take every massage offered. Few prices are set and while individual items are cheap, costs add up when you’re nickel and dimed for everything. My bargaining skills are still a work in progress but I did get a partially new wardrobe to cope with the heat.
Aside from more airy clothes, another way to cool off was taking advantage of all of the pools and beaches. Plus, most of my showers were cold showers. Speaking of water, future travelers need to budget a few dollars a day for safe drinking water. Save the risk of Bali Belly for that seafood indulgence or potentially suspect sate ayam. I only had one night of sickness and discomfort so I’ll consider myself lucky.
On a more positive note, it was wet season but the rain primarily happened at night which was nice. That gave me ample time to enjoy the stunning scenery in the sunshine. I didn’t have to go far to experience the diversity of paradise-like beaches and resorts versus lush green rice terraces and monkey forests.
In terms of worthwhile activities, there were plenty of options to choose, ranging from recreational to spiritual. I did a sacred cacao ceremony and sound healing as well as got 12m deep with my first ever dive. I also spent a day on a scooter and didn’t wreck myself so that’s classified as a huge win.
People came in varying degrees. Most of the locals I interacted with were gracious and humble. There were a select few that were solely focused on taking advantage of tourists. Here’s looking to you, Bangsal Harbor guy. I suppose you’ll find that everywhere though.
I did have the good fortune of making a few meaningful connections with fellow travelers — a common trend throughout my journey that I’ll be happy to keep going.
As far as unfinished business, there were a few sights I missed out on: particularly Mt. Batur, the Lempuyang Gate, and the pink beaches of eastern Lombok. I could see myself coming back to be a hostel promoter or to finish a diving certification. If I ever take up surfing, Bali would be a top destination also. And in an even bigger long shot, the Gili Islands are a must-do romantic getaway should I ever land a significant other.
We’ll just have to see about that.
By the Numbers
Days in Bali: 30 Day Tours: 2 Avg Daily Water Intake: 2.5L Bargaining Opportunities: 14 Boat Rides: 11 Motorbike Rides Without Incident: 15 IRD Spent: ~17,797,768.00 USD Spent: ~$1,270.859 (Avg conversion rate of roughly 14007.49)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
I arrived in Lembar port at 6pm and the sun was beginning to set. Lombok seemed like a beautiful place. Somehow it had a more organized vibe than Bali but was still quite similar.
I arranged for a motorbike ride from the harbor to my accommodation in Mataram city. I wasn’t stoked to be on the back of a motorbike with my massive pack for almost an hour but it was the quickest and cheapest way.
I underestimated how strong your lower back muscles need to be to ride comfortably while supporting that much weight. It was a struggle. I kept trying to focus on the new scenery.
There were traditional streets with lanes, a more traditional traffic pattern, and many mosques lining the roads. Lombok was majority Muslim, in line with the rest of Indonesia. A few minutes into the ride, I heard parts of the evening prayer amplified through speakers as we passed by.
The trip to the hostel took longer than an hour because the guy didn’t know where he was going even though I was showing him directions. At long last, we pulled through an intersection with a McDonald’s on one side and a Pizza Hut on the other and parked at our destination.
Just by walking up to the reception desk, I astounded the staff there. The check-in counter was in the corner of an empty cafe so the employees weren’t doing anything. I mentioned that I had a reservation and threw the two guys for a loop. They had to call someone to ask how to process everything. This was a very curious first impression.
After being ushered back to my room, I had the sneaking suspicion that I was the only guest at the hostel. This was very quickly confirmed when they had to go get keys to unlock the door to the bathroom. So strange. Sure, it was low season, but based on the reviews for the place, I expected at least a few other travelers. The lack of patrons proved unfortunate because I was intending to meet people and create a group to do day trips. That was a little tough without other people.
While walking around Mataram, I got the feeling that I was the only tourist in the entire city. It seemed like every pair of eyes followed me wherever I went. I never came across another white person the whole time I was there.
One of the sights nearby was the Islamic Center NTB. It was a large mosque with beautiful colors and intricate symmetry in its design. There were certain parts in disrepair from the earthquake that occurred in 2018. I went to have a look around and admire the architecture. Clue #10 that I didn’t belong: I was stopped by 3 different groups who asked to take photos with me. As in, people wanted me — this random white dude — to be in a photo with them. I obliged. Now I’m the butt of a joke on a few teenagers IG accounts. Why not?
I had to wait out a short rain storm under the mosque’s sheltered paths before heading over to the fancy new shopping center that everybody was excited about. Once again, I was a walking mythological creature based on peoples’ reactions of me perusing the corridors of this mall.
When I returned back to my hostel, there was a live band playing to no one. It was a Friday night, so customary to have entertainment I guess. I had to walk through the empty cafe passed the band to get to my room. Awkward. I’ve been there, guys. Trust me. They played for another hour or two before calling it a night. The ghosts must’ve been happy.
The place gave me a peculiar feeling. Not because of the ghosts — that was a joke. I didn’t necessarily feel unwelcome, but I definitely felt like I was there at the wrong time. I decided not to linger and continue on with my travels the next day.
I took another hour long ride up to Bangsal harbor in the north part of the island. Since I was flying by the seat of my pants a little bit, I was again unprepared for bargaining and paid a bit too much for a boat over to Gili Air and an open ticket that would take me back to mainland Bali. I didn’t feel good about the situation immediately after handing over my money. This would play a significant role later on.
Similar to the Nusa islands I’d visited previously, the 3 Gili islands off the northwest coast of Lombok are a popular destination for most travelers that visit the area. Gili Air has a reputation for being a good spot to relax and unwind, Gili Trawagan is known for its party scene and Gili Meno is the quietest of the group (even though it’s geographically in the middle).
The islands are all small with little infrastructure, disregarding the damage the earthquake has also done to them. The only methods of transportation are bicycle and horse-drawn buggy. As an aside, I felt really bad for the horses because when they were inactive they would just stare at the ground and not move. I always thought they needed more water.
On Gili Air, I hopped off my boat and took a 10 minute walk to my next hostel. I was crossing my fingers there were more people there, even though I knew it would be a chill vibe.
Captain Coconuts was tucked away on a cozy street, slightly inland on the western part of the island. I was greeted by a lot of bamboo and thatched roofing. The staff was very friendly at check in and as I was taken back to my room, I didn’t see another person. There was no one in my dorm room yet again. It would be a solitary few days, I thought.
The bright side was the uniqueness of the accommodation. The room was under a roof but in the open air and the beds were suspended from the ceiling with mosquito nets for protection at night. The pool was in the middle of the property, surrounded by large, custom wooden lounge chairs and some pillows strewn about.
During my days, I did a decent amount of exploring the island. The path next to the beach was lined with bars that all had comfy seating nestled up to the water, perfect for eating dinner and watching the sunset. From what I could tell, that and swimming were the two main activities to occupy one’s time.
I caught two lovely sunsets while there and relaxed from my…already unstressful lifestyle as a vagabond.
Two days of being low key felt sufficient. It was time to move onto Gili T. I wasn’t in search of a party, but something a little more active would be alright.
I could feel the liveliness immediately when I arrived. It was mainly the familiar feeling of being badgered by vendors and kiosk agents trying to sell bracelets and excursions. Moving past the hectic zone, there were more boutiques, restaurants and accommodations on the main drag. Once I was farther from that street, I noticed more rundown sites and less action overall. Not a surprise.
I used the Bali Backpackers Facebook group to find the hostel I reserved. People said it was a social place that could throw down if needed. Seemed like a good hedge. I checked in and was introduced to the promoter, Missy, a chick around my age from California. Later, I found out how sweet her arrangement was. She’s “working” there for two months in exchange for room and board. Her responsibilities are really to just hang out with guests, organize snorkel or similar day trips and make sure everyone is having a good time. Aka she gets to make new friends and drink “on the job.” Epic.
She folded me into the hip posse of travelers that had been staying there for a bit — a Canadian, 4 Norwegians, and 2 Germans. We did a lot of chatting in the early afternoon before organizing a trek over to a viewpoint to see the sunset. The trip was a bust because the viewpoint was just a small clearing mostly obscured by trees. It was burger night back at the hostel though, so we used it as an excuse to eat dinner.
Later in the evening, we went to watch a snorkel test. Apparently, when someone passes a dive certification (might specifically be for dive master) it’s tradition to chug a liter of alcohol through a snorkel. So that happened. Then there was a crazy storm with heavy rain and terrifying lightning. We got stuck in an expensive bar waiting for it to subside. From there, we did a little bit of relatively tame bar hopping before calling it a night.
In the morning, most of the group went on a snorkeling trip around the Gili islands. Two marquee stops I was excited about were the underwater statue sculpture and a site called turtle haven.
They did not disappoint. Most people say that the statue area is always teeming with people so it’s impossible to really enjoy it. We were lucky because there was practically nobody there. Maybe the previous nights rain kept people away or something. Whatever the reason, I was happy to scope it out in detail without getting whacked in the face by a million other flippers.
Turtle haven was sort of a mixed bag. There were a good amount of turtles there, but they were all sleeping on the bottom, which was probably 30ft down. Thankfully, there was one active turtle in a shallower area. It went up for air really close to me so I was able to get a decent look at it.
The last stop was called fish garden. Living up to its name, there was a continuous swarm of cool looking fish. At one point they were all up on me because that’s where the food was. Kind of sweet.
We had group lunch on Gili Air and then returned to the hostel. A rather solid few hours in the water.
My plan was to head back to Bali the following day, so I needed to sort out my boat reservation. I called the number that was on my receipt to confirm my ticket and got one of those recordings that the number was out of service. Not ideal. I went looking for the company’s office with Missy and after a rather long search found they were closed. Something I was going to have to sort out the day of, clearly. Ominous signs though.
With the rest of the afternoon at my disposal, I decided to do something I’d never done before. A trip within the trip. A sort of under the radar yet well-known thing to do on Gili T is to have a magic mushroom shake. It sounded interesting and I’m all about new experiences on this journey, so I decided to go for it.
It was more of a smoothie than a shake, really. Greenish. Looked like a drink that a health nut would frequently have. It tasted ok actually. Not quite on par with that Naked Green Machine juice or whatever, but not too far away. Imbibed; delighted.
Then it was a waiting game.
I sat in the main area of the hostel for a long time and had so many different conversations. It was mainly just a regular high, nothing too psychedelic. Hearing Norwegian spoken at a rapid pace was mind blowing. Outside of that, there were a few giggle fits which is par for the course. I wish I was better at documenting some of the quotes at the time to see if they were even remotely humorous now. My guess is not.
Missy and I couldn’t tell if we were hungry but we went with the group to dinner anyway. It was a good choice to change venues and keep the fun chat going.
By the time that was done and we were back at the hostel, I was more or less back to normal. We finished off the night with a few friendly rounds of cards and that was that.
The next morning I said my goodbyes and went to the boat office again with a hopeful attitude. The phone number still wasn’t working, but there wasn’t much I could do. The manager said a reservation wasn’t made for me, so nothing was official. The boat I was looking to take only left once a day too. It headed back to Bangsal harbor before going to Bali, so he said I could try to find the guy I bought the ticket from and sort it out quickly. I only had 10 minutes before it embarked though.
When we got to Bangsal, the dude was actually walking up to the boat so finding him was no issue. He complained about me not calling him even after I explained several times that the number he gave me didn’t work. He told me to wait somewhere and he would go get the money to make the arrangements. He just got out of sight before I realized that was stupid and should follow him. I didn’t find him, but he resurfaced a few minutes later and walked me back toward the dock. Again, he was complaining and stalling and making excuses. He said he would let me stay for free and take the boat tomorrow even though I had to leave on the one that day (I already made hostel reservations and it was too late to cancel). During the argument, I saw the boat push away from the wharf. Obviously. Once again, the dude told me he would give me a refund and told me to wait at a specific spot. This time he gave me his cell phone as collateral. It was a shitty ass Nokia brick. Nobody really needs that shit back.
As I was standing there, a few different guys came up asking me where I was trying to go and tried to empathize. They said that guy was a bad man and all this stuff. Of course they were quick to offer me a discounted ticket through their company because they liked me. “I’ll even take an extra 50,000 off if you give me the phone so I can sell it.” Shit like that. It was a clever ruse that I think everybody was in on. I was deep enough in that I would be buying another boat ticket either way. I was still trying to make my destination work while juggling under duress. My only solution was to get a boat to a completely different harbor and then pay for a car up to Amed. Eventually, I shelled out for a ticket for the next boat. At least I’d be back in Bali and away from this mess.
On the boat ride over, I was researching routes and costs for the ride to Amed. Paying for a car by myself was expensive. It wasn’t an option I was interested in. Taking a shuttle to another destination was cheaper, but I would still have to forfeit what I paid for my hostel reservation. Yada yada.
I bailed on Amed to return to Seminyak and be in a more developed area that I was familiar with. Plus, it’s more convenient to the airport when I fly out. It’s not a concession I’m thrilled about, but it made more financial sense to go this way.
Somewhat of a sour note to end on. I fell for an elaborate scam. It was layered and well-played. And it was bound to happen to me in Asia at some point. Hopefully I’ve gotten it out of the way early. At a minimum, it was a proper learning experience. Now I know what signs to look for, exactly what questions to ask, and what information to insist on before putting money down.
A harbor in Bali is really a beach with a few tents and some small boats moored to the shore. That’s what I found out when I showed up to catch a lift to Nusa Lembongan.
As a brief geography lesson, there are 3 islands to the east of mainland Bali: Lembongan (closest), Ceningan (smallest), and Penida (largest).
After a while of waiting, the cruise over to the island was just 30 minutes. Pulling into Jungut Batu was beautiful. It was a clear day, there was blue, blue water and a cliff with embedded houses overlooking the bay. I boarded a shuttle that took me to my accommodation on the other side of the island. Well, it was really more of a small truck with two benches in the bed, but it did the trick.
Garden Cottage #1
The harbor area was much busier with people, shops, and restaurants than where I was staying. The southwest corner of the island was much more desolate and felt spread out. I think there were only 6 other people staying at my place, if that, and I saw them very fleetingly. It felt like I had the whole cottage, pool and restaurant to myself.
Unsurprising news flash: Bali is hot. I went for a walk to find lunch and see some sights. I hit the nearby hotspots of Dream Beach, Devil’s Tear, Mushroom Beach and then Sunset Point to end the evening. On the way to the last stop i met a retired American couple who were long term traveling. They told me about their plans for the upcoming months and clued me into something called The Great Loop which is a sailing journey through the eastern seaboard waters of the US and Canada. They did it over the course of 2017 and had awesome things to say about it. Sounds like a worthwhile future endeavor.
Sunset Point
Once the sun dipped beyond the horizon, we parted ways and I returned to my hostel.
Subsequent unsurprising news flash: I’ve sweat through every article of clothing multiple times at this point. Laundry is in dire need.
The next morning I was up at 6:30am to get ready for a snorkeling trip. I grabbed a quick breakfast and hitched a scooter ride to the harbor. This dude comfortably did 40+km/hr while weaving around people with me on the back holding on for dear life. Nice.
There was a group of about 20 people of varying ages and nationalities on board the boat for the snorkel trip. The skipper’s English was limited and he had a no-nonsense attitude but it worked out.
Our first location was Manta Bay off the south coast of Nusa Penida. It’s a popular spot for…you guessed it, manta rays. There were several snorkelers already in the water and the captains of the boats were yelling to each other where the rays were so everybody was encouraged to get in quickly.
I hopped in and immediately saw one about 30ft below. Several people were freediving down to get a closer look. I tried that as well but could only go so deep. I’m not sure if we saw two in total or just the same one in different spots but it was sweet.
The people on my boat re-boarded after just a few minutes in the water so we moved onto our next spot which pretty fast. At Crystal Bay there was some deece soft coral in with relatively vibrant fish activity. It was also quite shallow in areas so I was able to dip down and get a cool perspective right above the reef.
I was the last one back in the boat again as we shipped off to our last destination. This one wasn’t in the shelter of a bay so the current was quite strong. It was another shallow spot though with harder, less colorful coral. There were still some alright fish and shapes but it was a slightly anticlimactic way to end the day.
By the time we were back to land and I grabbed a ride to the hostel, it was only 1pm. With so much of the day still left, I decided to hire a scooter for myself and see areas of the island I hadn’t yet.
My Chariot
I honestly can’t recall if I’ve ever taken a scooter or similar vehicle for a spin. If I have, it’s been ages so it was basically a whole new experience. The controls are simple enough, but balance and road etiquette were the two things I had to get up to speed on. Luckily, there are basically no rules required to drive in Bali so that part was easy. I mean you drive on the left and you honk when you’re overtaking someone or going around a blind corner, but that’s about it.
It took a little bit of getting used to but no major mishaps thankfully. Don’t worry, Mom, I wore a helmet just in case. Pretty sure I stood out like the n00b I was, but since I’m accident prone, I figured it was the safer call.
I drove around the island twice, stopping at Panorama Point, the mangrove forest and Yellow Bridge, which connects Lembongan to Ceningan. Cruising along the southwestern coast offered some pretty killer views of the other two islands while the tide was retracting.
For dinner, I scooted on back to Jungut Batu to meet up with some people from the backpacking Facebook group. We were discussing pooling together to do a day trip around Nusa Penida in the following days so thought it was a good opportunity to meet beforehand. Sarah and Alina, two young, pretty and chipper ladies from Germany, were at a nice cafe next to the beach. We ate and connected quickly over random conversation as dusk transitioned into a proper night sky.
We still had details to sort out, but from a personality standpoint it was a solid match. They went back to their guesthouse and I found a random sports bar to watch the Tottenham game. There were actually a few other fans there and it ended in a solid victory so that was a positive note.
The last act of the day was a late night scooter ride back to my hostel. It wasn’t too eventful which was good. The only thing I had to watch out for were bugs and stray dogs trying to bite my ankles on the way by.
Success. Not a scratch to myself or the motorbike. Mission accomplished. I could get used to this.
In the morning, I got a very generous free ride down to Yellow Bridge where I caught the public boat over to Nusa Penida.
Yellow Bridge #3
It only took around 15 minutes and I reached my bungalow after a brief taxi ride.
I thought I booked a place with a decent amount of stuff going on around it. I walked around the area to find that wasn’t really the case. There were maybe a handful of restaurants but that was about it.
Thankfully, my place had its own kitchen and offered live music every night. It also seemed like I had a solid room of people. The first person I met was an attractive and kind Dutch gal named Joyce. We shared a few travel stories and upcoming plans with each other. She was getting over Typhoid Fever. Intense! Kind of coincidental because I totally forgot about taking those pills until two weeks prior. Anyhow, i invited her along on the Penida day tour and made the final arrangements in booking a driver and the remaining details.
Penida Colada Sunset
As happy hour approached, I decided to check out a bar I’d seen recommendations for — Penida Colada. How clever. It was a prime spot on the water and even though it was north facing, we still got a gorgeous hint of colors from the sunset. I was definitely grinning while I finished my 2 for 1 cocktails.
I returned to the hostel and joined a few of my other roommates for dinner and drinks while the band began to play. The basic outfit of singer/guitarist, bassist and box drummer crushed it. The guys voice was smooth as hell. It’s always funny to listen to a non-English speaker sing in a perfect American accent.
My alcohol hiatus obviously came to an end. I may have had one too many Bintangs over the course of the night but it didn’t turn into anything outlandish.
That being said, I woke up early nursing a mild hang. I had to meet our driver and go to the harbor to pick up Joyce, Sarah, Alina and new addition, Maaike, before we got the day underway.
If you’re wondering why we needed a driver, the reason is the condition of the roads. The main part of the island has paved roads, with lane markings even — something I barely even saw on the mainland — outside of that though, as in on the way to the attractions we were visiting, they became a shit show. Steep and rough terrain with some of the most uneven grade and biggest potholes I’ve ever seen. I’m honestly not sure how even the most experience motorbike driver was able to navigate those “roads” but I’m glad I didn’t try it myself. There were many, many stories of daily tourist accidents.
Apart from the lovely scenery of the European ladies I was with, there was also some nature to look at.
We wound our way to Angel’s Billabong, Broken Beach, the Kelingking Cliff viewpoint and Crystal Bay Beach with a stop for lunch thrown in there.
The vastness of these sites doesn’t really come through in photos. Kelingking Cliff (second pic above) was particularly dramatic. I’m not sure exactly how high the lookout was, but the people on the beach below were just specks.
Penida Tour Group
Again, it was a hot ass day. Our last stop gave us an opportunity to cool off with a much needed dip in the water. Totally refreshing.
It ended up being a super chill group and a pleasant day of touring around. Joyce and I dropped the girls off back at the harbor and began a mission of finding a fairly priced boat to take us to Lombok since we were both continuing our travels there soon. Bargaining proved to be difficult. We got stonewalled by two guys that claimed it was a fixed price so we shelved that for the time being.
That wasn’t the only thing to rain on our parade. An actual storm moved in. We waited it out under an awning since the scooter she rented was about to turn up anyway.
In chatting, she told me she was going on a dive the following day and that I should join. Diving was something I strongly considered doing in Asia, partially because it’s supposed to be good but also really cheap comparatively. Her shop was on the way back to our hostel so we stopped in for me to get some more info.
The owner of the shop agreed to accommodate me on such short notice and I was given a little bit of homework to study before returning early the next morning to knock out the introductory skills.
I think Joyce was more excited than I was about it. That’s not to say I wasn’t, but for some reason I just had no expectations at all about the experience. She was already open water certified so she just had a better idea of what was in store for us.
That night we got dinner together and bonded over a talk about personal development and our motivations to travel. This might’ve been the best conversation I’ve had across my entire trip. It felt special to share such a similar perspective with someone who I otherwise wouldn’t have ever met.
Me & Joyce Pre-Dive
In the morning she was nice enough to drop me at the dive center. Jason was the owner and my instructor/guide for the day. In a pool, he walked me through the 4 procedures I had to pass to be able to do the real thing. It only took a few minutes because apparently I knocked it out. I’ve heard it takes a while to get used to breathing through the regulator underwater. At this point with all the snorkeling I’ve done, I feel well-adapted to keeping my head below the surface for hours.
Since that was such a breeze, I basically hung out for an hour to wait for everybody else to arrive. Once it was time, we grabbed all of the necessary equipment and were transported to the boat.
The first dive site was Manta Bay. Familiar territory. This was an awesome opportunity to see manta rays up close and personal.
Me, Jason and Joyce were all paired together, with Jason keeping a close eye on me. The first descent was a slow process. I had a lot of trouble with my ears equalizing. That was the thing I was most focused on for the first dive but didn’t encounter any other issues. It wasn’t necessarily a very scenic site and we were actually unlucky to not see any mantas while we were below the surface.
Eventually, my air supply got to 50 bar and that meant it was time to head back up. Once we got above the water and could talk, Jason said it had been an hour and that was one of the longest dives he’s done in a long time. He was very complimentary of my air consumption and body position. Said that I was super relaxed and communicated well with the hand signals and everything. Excellent to have a knack for such a unique activity.
The only bummer was no mantas. We climbed back into the boat and stripped our tanks off. Jason was actually frustrated by the lack of mantas as well so he said we would stick around for a little bit. There were some other boats there with people snorkeling and that gave us a bead on one. Joyce and I jumped in with just snorkeling gear to go see. Boom. There was a massive one effortlessly gliding through the water. It was deep down again but must’ve been at least as big as my wingspan. We followed it for a little bit and then got back on the vessel.
We cruised over to Crystal Bay, another familiar spot and moored up. Everybody ate a little lunch before getting ready to head in for the second dive. I had a lot of water in my ears so was curious how equalizing would be this time around.
The 3 of us got in and used the anchor line to help us descend. It was an easier time getting down to depth.
I had my GoPro with me, but I didn’t have an underwater case. It’s only operable up to 10m aka 30ft before the water pressure makes the buttons unpressable. I started recording a video before we reached that level but once we got there, it was out of my control. I thought it shut off so I stopped caring about it for a bit. We saw a moray eel in some coral getting its teeth cleaned by a smaller fish. I didn’t even try to capture it. Then we saw a Hawksbill turtle grubbing on something in the coral. I saw a red light flashing on the camera so had Jason take it and really get in there. The GoPro turned itself on photo time lapse mode, which I found out later, but at least it was capturing something. For the rest of the dive I was using it as if it was recording video. I’m happy it continued getting images because some of them are epic (even if I had to sort through 2000+ pics).
This dive was much more memorable. There was substantially better coral and marine life. Plus I had less trouble with the equalization so was able to really have a good look around. It was almost another hour long dive before we were back top side.
I felt good about what we saw while we were still on the boat but I’m even more stoked now looking at the photos. Joyce and I both considered extending our stays on Penida just to dive again in those areas. I’m really interested in doing an open water certification but even though it’s cheaper here, it’s probably too cost prohibitive to my overall trip fund.
Back on land, we had most of the afternoon to decompress and relax. Joyce and I ended up having another awesome talk over dinner, maybe even better than the previous night. Then, we went back to the hostel to pack our things to leave the next morning.
We didn’t have a ton of information, but we were planning to catch a slow ferry to Padang Bai (a port on Bali) and from there another ferry to Lombok. It was the cheapest option but also between 7-9 hours of travel.
Whatever it takes to keep some coin in the travel coffers.
It was an unremarkably overcast day when I arrived in Canggu.
It was only a few miles from Seminyak, but it had a much more relaxed vibe. The streets weren’t overcrowded with people and vendors. There was no cacophony of horns and “In here, boss!” demands.
The car pulled down a narrow alley and came to a stop at the end. There was a building there, but the location and surroundings seemed to conflict with what I thought I booked. I got out and hauled my bags to reception. As I was being escorted up to my room, I realized I’d made it to paradise.
This place was beautiful. It had only been open for 2 months, so it was relatively unspoiled. The facilities were all immaculate and the pool set up was perfect.
I was initially planning to go on a long walk to watch the sunset at a seaside temple. The gray sky and the swim up bar quickly changed my mind. It was an easy choice, especially since Happy Hour was 2 for 1 cocktails. Cheers.
I started chatting with two Aussie chicks who were on holiday. We crushed 12 cocktails between us. My bill was like $20.
Paradise.
After HH I took a stroll down to the beach and admired all of the bar set ups. There were some simple ones with rows of cushy seats and others with more elaborate, infinity pool spaces.
I worked my way back toward the hostel and went for a tasty dinner at an empty restaurant with rice field views before calling it a night.
The next day I was determined to get a new hat and tank top to help alleviate the heat and my laziness for morning preparation. Before setting out on this venture, I got a free delicious breakfast at the hip restaurant attached to the hostel. The smoothie bowl I ordered hugged my eyes and palate in its appearance and yumminess. It was also healthy, so it was a win/win/win.
Feeling good about life as a whole, I headed over to a cool Bazaar to get my shop on.
Bazaar
In hindsight, I should’ve waited a few more days until I had a stronger grasp on the currency. The thousands thing. Plus, I’m a people pleaser so negotiating really isn’t my strong suit.
I walked out of there with two hats, two tanks, and a dirty feeling. I talked the guy down by almost a million, but he started at almost 2 million. I’d like to say I’ll be better moving forward, but only time will tell. It’s difficult to be a hard ass to a stranger. Then again, if their goal is to take advantage of you…Something to think about.
Anyway, I returned to Kosone and decided to conduct the rest of my affairs by the pool. It was a beautiful day and it was worth enjoying.
I talked with a gorgeous woman, originally from Madagascar, who was living in Canggu and running a cafe. She was also drinking coconut water out of a coconut. Appropriate.
It was impossible to drag myself away from this place. I decided to extend my stay for another night because it was too good. How could you not?
For the latter part of the afternoon, I lounged with my roommates, Julian (20yr old, Holland) and Scott (30yr old, Australia). Happy Hour came around, so, you know, that happened again. I was thinking this was the ideal Groundhog Day cycle.
As HH finished at the pool, myself, Scott and a Canadian chick hopped on a scooter — yes, 3 grown adults on a scooter — and made it to a beachside bar before their deal time was over. Scott said that the party scene in the area was pretty heavy. Our night was careening that direction as we migrated to another bar with a view and quickly caught the sunset.
Sunset at The Lawn
Thankfully, a stop for dinner slowed the momentum and we decided to take a few beers back to the hostel. It was a blitz of an evening, but a chill night to balance that craziness. Very easy to see how I could get fat and hammered for the duration of my time in Bali.
The events of the following day helped to curb that possibility.
I started with another great breakfast (still included in the price of my room). I was determined to make the walk to the seaside temple since I hadn’t accomplished that yet.
It was a 2.5 hour trek, which meant some decent exercise. Two deterring factors were the heat and the lack of sidewalks. But, my mind was made up.
I embarked with 1.5 liters of water and a few podcasts lined up. I’m pretty sure I was covered in sweat within the first 3 minutes. I persevered while perspiring.
Thirty minutes in and I was like damn. It. Is. HOT.
There wasn’t much shade along the road unfortunately. The breathability of a tank top could only do so much. I stopped to reapply my sunscreen and looked at my map. Still an hour to go.
The directions took me down an interesting path in the middle of some lush, green fields. There was a well-paved road that seemed ne’er traversed. It was a strange yet beautiful scene.
By the time I got to Tanah Lot, it felt like I’d been walking for days. I can only imagine how people in the actual desert feel.
Upon entering the temple, pretty much all I saw was tourists. The place was overrun. To top it off, it was high tide so I could only see the main attraction from afar. It looked nice, but dodging people at every turn was a bit of a chore.
Tanah Lot #3
I explored some of the more empty areas and stumbled on a Luwak Coffee cafe with civet and all. I guess that’s one of the most expensive types of coffee in the world since the beans are digested by the cat/otter mix of an animal. The poor guy was as hot as I was, sitting there panting and pacing.
Afternoon was turning into evening and I was beginning to feel the effects of the heat. I also inadvertently skipped lunch which was unwise. I b-lined it for a convenient store on the way back toward the hostel. In an effort to keep sun stroke at bay, I got some more water and a snack in the AC. I also decided to get a ride back so I didn’t randomly fall out on the street.
A much needed plunge in the pool welcomed me back to Kosone.
Julian and I made plans to travel together to Ubud in the morning, so we knocked out some reservations and then started talking about dinner plans. I went to the front desk and asked the cute receptionist for recommendations.
We had some good options to choose from and the consensus was pizza. With another one of our roommates, we walked over to the spot. I was hungry enough to down a large NY-style pie without any trouble. I settled for wood fired pepperoni and a single light beer.
Right after finishing my food, I started to feel unwell. “Bali Belly” is a thing that affects many tourists, but I thought it was primarily about unsafe water consumption and I’d been careful about that. My fingers were crossed that it was just my body climbing up that replenishment hill for a little bit.
Nope.
I vomited immediately when I got back to my room. Unpleasant. Does this mean I can no longer trust the recommendations of cute receptionists? The other guys were totally fine, so I’m going to say no. That would be depressing anyway. Don’t eat anymore pizza in Bali? That’s also quite sad, but probably a reality for the near future.
It was a rough night of various pain and little sleep, but it didn’t manifest into full blown pinwheeling or anything. Phew. It must’ve been my body feeling depleted.
I was far from 100% in the morning so it was difficult to leave paradise. Before the ride to Ubud, Julian and I picked up another traveler in Nanne (27yr old, Finland). It was the making of an inseparable trio for the next two days.
I was trying to learn popular phrases on the plane. Totally lost on pronunciation though.
We were a bit late arriving and it was 11pm before I was done with customs. I learned my lesson from New Zealand and pre-arranged a shuttle to my accommodation. It seemed like a particularly smart call at this hour until I walked out toward the pick up area and was immediately overwhelmed.
There were at least 50 drivers holding signs with names on them. Ooof. A needle in a hay stack.
I walked the line like a lost puppy a few times without seeing my name. Maybe my guy didn’t show or waited forever and thought I wasn’t coming? It was back to doing it on the fly. I made my way toward the exit. When I turned a corner, I saw another 100 drivers smushed together waving more signs.
Round 2.
After another bit of looking I found a guy with “Nathan.” Phew. I went up to him and he was taken aback. Ok. Turns out there are other Nathans out there. The search continued…
I pushed past 30 people trying to get me to take their overpriced taxi before I finally found my driver. We had to push back through everyone to get outside.
Things were so much different than anything I’ve ever experienced. The new country elements: people, architecture, sounds and smells.
On the ride to my hostel, I was even surprised by the streets, which seemed more like alleys. They were narrow and unassuming. With sharp curves, my driver was honking before going around the bends to let possible oncoming traffic know he was there.
I saw countless motorbikes manned by helmetless drivers. They were zooming everywhere, seemingly without a lane assignment, easily able to avoid the plethora of stray dogs obliviously meandering in the middle of the road. Traffic patterns on the whole were interesting to observe. I think we only had one stoplight the entire drive. Zero stop signs. Every intersection was a clustercuss that somehow got sorted without the need of signals or an obvious system.
When we arrived at the hostel, I was still processing. I missed the sign asking me to remove my shoes before entering but did so quickly. It was a cozy spot tucked back off the main drag. There was a lot of bamboo. Wood and white.
During the check-in process, I got to deal with the currency for the first time, the Indonesian Rupiah, which is based in thousands. So a normal price for a large bottle of water is 10.000rp (72¢). I briefly thought about the fact that I was a billionaire here. Status.
I was shown up to my room, a relatively sterile 8-bed dorm. One thing that stood out immediately was the intense smell of mothballs. At least I wasn’t going to be swarmed by spiders in the night.
My bed was nice though. It had a lot of space, a privacy curtain, and a light + power outlet which is always clutch. I settled in for the night and figured I would wake up early the next morning to figure out my next move.
I woke up to gamelan playing — traditional Indonesian music featuring various percussive instruments. It was a pretty calming way to greet the day. I went downstairs for breakfast and did a bit of planning.
I was in Kuta, somewhat close to the airport, which I’d heard was just a busy place. Seminyak was on a few lists I’d researched and not too far away so I set my sights there. I made another hostel reservation and then was looking at transportation.
They don’t really have public transportation options here. Different. The most popular way to get around is to rent a scooter, which I was not feeling confident about after the initial ride in. I could also get a taxi or motorbike lift. Another option was Grab, an Uber equivalent.
I didn’t want to be exploited by a local this early in my trip, so I decided Grab was my best bet. A 20 minute ride ended up being around $2.86. Pretty killer. I learned later that it’s so cheap because they don’t have to pay any local taxes. However, they’re only allowed to operate in certain areas on the island. The Balinesian drivers are up in arms about it since they have allocate 30% of their fares to the government and helping the local village.
In any case, I got to Seminyak well before lunch and wanted to get out and have a look around the place. I also needed to pick up a new SIM at some point.I set my bags down and hit the street.
Warrior Shrine
Temple Door #1
Fem Shrine #2
There was a market next door that I perused for like an hour because I was so fascinated by the products and prices. I was still trying to wrap my head around the value of the currency. I revisited each aisle about 3 separate times. The employees were probably questioning my sanity.
I was too. Always am.
Eventually I escaped the curiosity of barbecue steak-flavored Cheetos and walked the streets. The first thing I noticed was all of these little intricate incense trays on the ground in front of stores and scattered around shrines. There were hundreds and the contents of each one was unique. I saw some with cigarettes, others with candies or shots of juice.
Canang Sari
Canang sari is a daily offering to the Hindu gods that represents praise and prayer. It’s quite incredible how each household and shop owner obsessively prepare their little masterpiece each day. This is special to Bali too, as the majority of Indonesia is Muslim, not Hindu.
So after a few hours of wandering around, I was beginning to pick up the vibe. You could not walk by a single person without being offered a scooter rental or to have a look in their store. A couple I spoke to on the plane told me I would be sick of horns within a day. I certainly heard my fair share, whether it was actual traffic usage or trying to get me into their taxi. I appreciated it as part of the overall soundscape (in that moment at least).
The streets were lined with various fashion and furniture stores as well as restaurants and cafes. This is Seminyak’s main claim to fame I suppose. For a tourist on a normal holiday with room in their bag and a job to return to, they could acquire a lot for a little from these vendors.
I inquired at a few stalls about a SIM but it took a while to find a solid option. Once that was all done I went back to the hostel to check in and get situated.
Double Six Beach
After I got set up in my cubby bed, I went down to the beach to see what was up. Walking out on the sand was an interesting experience because there was so much trash everywhere. Double Six was the popular spot, but it seemed a bit unremarkable, especially with the huge piles of debris and rubbish.
I decided to go back to the city and find some food and a happy hour special. I got two beers, some tasty dumplings and a good portion of fried rice for under $10. I was starting to get a giddy feeling about the money saving options in Bali. I ended the night on that positive note.
The next day there was more exploring on the docket. I was expanding my search and scouting out some solid sunset watching spots.
I ended up on a different beach and followed it north toward the bigger places in the distance. It was cleaner in the morning which was nice. A mile or two down the way I peeled back inland and walked around the outside of a temple. It looked nice but I was a bit intimidated to go inside because I wasn’t fully up on the customs.
Instead, I worked my way over to the sprawling campus of the W hotel to see what that was all about. I had to go through a security check just to get on the grounds. I felt like I was secretly trespassing into rich people territory.
When I got inside, I was impressed. Surprise, surprise. The place was massive and super nice. There were several levels of comfy seating areas and like 3 different restaurants/cafes within 30ft of each other. The pool set up was really the star attraction though. There were lounge chairs following every contour and well-placed palm trees adding that tropical flair.
I got a smoothie with a W-branded cup and was hoping that would be enough to make it look like I fit in. Within a minute of sitting down on one of the lounge chairs I was asked for my room number. That area was only for hotel guests. Damn.
The good news was only a few feet away was a poolside bar that I could sit at and still get swimming privileges. Bonus. I ordered a bucket of beers and posted up on a couch for the day.
I had a beer, got some sun, took a dip, had a beer, napped, had a beer and chilled hard. I think that was the closest I’ve ever been to living in the lap of luxury. I still felt like barbecue steak Cheetos in a caviar tin, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying it.
By the time I finished my last beer, the sun was getting ready to set and this was the perfect spot to watch. People were showing up in droves, so it actually paid off that I stumbled in early and stuck around. There wasn’t a single seat left anymore.
As sunsets go in Bali, it was kind of mediocre colors-wise, but the atmosphere made it exceptional. My afternoon playing someone with real money was a smashing success.
If I was feeling a bit old after my sailing trip on the Whitsundays, it was quelled somewhat by the guy who sat next to me on my bus ride up to Magnetic Island.
Dave was a 55+ guy from Phoenix. He told me how he recently sold his business and his house to long-term travel. We were on similar trajectories but in different phases of life. And traveling in different ways as well. He wasn’t doing the hostel thing yet. “Private rooms,” he said, “with the occasional house sit.” I’m keeping my eye on that game because like Workaway, it’s a great opportunity to extend that budget.
We parted ways when I got off in Townsville to catch the ferry over to the island. I was once again playing it by ear at this destination. I’d done basically no research about what there was to do. I reserved a hostel based on the recommendation of someone from my Fraser trip, but that’s about it. I heard it was a very chill spot without all that much going on.
I got off the ferry and realized I had to catch a bus to the other side of the island. I expected everything to be in walking distance but not quite.
On the bus ride, I could see why a lot of people suggest making the trip over. It was an island that had a lot of mountains that opened themselves up into beautiful bays. And it seemed like people were scarce wherever you went. Not bad.
Geoffrey Bay
My hostel was a collection of cozy cabins around a relaxing pool and bar, with a wildlife center on the grounds as well.
The cabins didn’t look like anything special from the outside but they were pretty comfortable on the inside.
On my first full day, I wanted to go for a long walk. I found a trail up to an old Fort site that I believe was used in WWII. The soldiers had pretty sick views while they were there, that’s for sure. Although it must have sucked to transport all of the building material up there. I saw a handful of koalas sleeping up in the trees on my way down too.
I kept up the walk on a bush trail that cut inland for a ways. I was the only one on it and anxiously waiting to cross paths with a snake or a rock wallaby. Surprisingly, no such encounters. It was insanely hot though. The sun was taking no prisoners on this day.
I got to an area called Arcadia and took a break to cool down and grab a bite to eat. I grubbed on a toastie and some chips until I stopped actively sweating. An hour later, I continued along a coastal path.
Eventually, I made it to Nelly Bay, which was the main settlement on the island. It’s where the grocery store (yes, ‘the’) and the ferry terminal are. I think there were a few bars/restaurants but I didn’t see all that much.
After pausing for another sweat break, I retraced my steps back to the hostel and b-lined it for the pool. All in all, I walked for around 4 or 5 hours, maybe 15kms or so. It was nice. I was feeling deficient in exercise so it was good to get a wander in.
The next day I went for another stroll to explore the northeast part of the island. The nearest area to the hostel was called Horseshoe Bay and was a popular swimming spot since they had a stinger net set up.
I found another bush trail that would take me to two other pretty isolated bays. I went up and down a small mountain to get to Radical Bay. I figured there would be a smattering of people enjoying the sun and water. I got there to find just one family on the other side of the bay. Presumably they belonged to the sailboat that was moored just a bit off shore. Still, that was it. Two adults and a child. Not too shabby.
I climbed back up the mountain and down a different path to the neighboring Balding Bay. The signs advertised it as the nudist spot. Again, I was anticipating several beach towels under pairs of old balls and leathery skin. I passed an unfit man on the way down and felt ok that he was leaving. Good timing.
I stepped off the path and onto the sand to find literally no one. Not a soul in this small, secluded bay.
I made my mind up that I was going to participate in the nudeness just to see what the experience was all about. Plus, my ghostly thighs could benefit from a few rays.
The emptiness made it a little anticlimactic. At the same time it was kind of exhilarating to have the whole place to myself. Then I realized that there was a couple over yonder as one of them uncamouflaged and went into the water. Then some dude kept walking 3 steps off the path to take pictures. I’m sure he was trying to get a sick snap of the serenity for Insta but I couldn’t help but feel it was a faux pas to spend that much time on your camera at the nudist beach.
I left after a half hour or so as to not lobsterify the private bits. I passed a couple and a family right as I was getting back on the path. Close call, kids.
That evening I hung out in Horseshoe to watch a setting sun disappear over the protruding land that comprised the left side of the shoe’s U.
Sunset at Horseshoe Bay #2
It was definitely a chill time on the island. There were a fair share of palm trees that gave it a tropical feel, juxtaposed by the rocky inner hills and mountains.
The following day I caught the ferry back to the mainland and rode a 6 hour bus up to Cairns. This would be my last stop in Australia, and I had 3 big excursions planned to finish it off on a high note.
The first day I was up at 6am to catch a fishing charter. It was an inlet trip that had 5 other people on it.
I had high hopes of hooking some bigguns until we spent the first hour watching the captain unsuccessfully throw out a net to catch some live bait. Seriously, we went to like 5 different spots and looked on helplessly as he kept saying, “You just never know where they’re gonna be,” and pulled up an empty net. “Nope. Nobody home.”
Finally, he motored us out to the first spot where we were able to get our lines in the water.
Two people caught finger marks that were too small to keep. Two creepy looking eels were also landed. Or at least reeled in to where we could see em and then cut the line. The one in the video below is the smaller one. The big boy was probably about 3 times its size, which is nuts. My phone was too scared to record it.
At the second spot, I caught a small basic fish. I was surprised because the bait seemed too big for this thing to be snacking on. A short while later, somebody caught a modest catfish. The most exciting thing that happened was a monster strike. The sad part is that it was likely a sting ray because it booked it and was so heavy that the line snapped.
We went to two more spots where not much more was caught. It kind of felt like the skipper was moderately inept. It’s also possible that I had this feeling because I was bitter we didn’t have a stronger day. I understand that’s the nature of fishing, but I felt like we could’ve been set up for more success. It was at least cool to get out and cast a few lines again. It had been so long.
I was back to the hostel by 1pm so I got some lunch and hung around to socialize. I ended up running into Janina from the Whitsundays trip. We hung out for a while and chatted with some random people from the hostel. She went to some ladies night event and I decided to turn in.
The next morning I geared up for a “fun and falls” tour in the tablelands/rainforest. The company was called Uncle Brian’s and came recommended by Stephany. I gathered outside with a few others and boarded a full bus of some 20 people.
Our guide, Adam, was a hilarious and energetic dude. He wore a set of fake hillbilly teeth when he went around to pick everyone up. I was curious about em and glad they were a joke.
He told some pretty good stories and gave us good background on various Australian enigmas on our way out to the first stop.
By the time we got there, we were getting the full effects of the rainforest. It was pissing outside but we still took a walk to see the Babinda Boulders, which were a series of rocks that have been hollowed out by running water.
Next, we went to Josephine Falls which had a rock slide and swimming pool from mountain runoff. Initially, Adam was wondering if we’d even be able to swim because there was so much rain that the river’s whitewater could be too powerful, making the conditions unsafe.
When we got to the spot it was all good. He did a demonstration run and then let the group go for it. There were a few unconfident swimmers that stayed ashore and watched the rest of us get our slide on.
The water was running with a pretty strong current and it was difficult to swim in certain spots. The rocks were also super slippery, so I could see how it could be risky.
That actually ended up coming into play when it was time to go. We’d been there for about an hour and the water level probably rose about 6 inches to the no-swim line. However, there were several group members that still had to make it across the pool back to the safe side.
There was particularly one girl that wasn’t a good swimmer and made a few unsuccessful attempts before she started to panic. Adam and another guide had to jump in and throw some ropes to get her to land.
In getting himself back across, Adam was swimming and missed his mark. He almost went down a grinding section of river. He was literally hanging onto a rock by his fingernails before another guide went out to help him get a strong enough footing. It was real dicey and after that point it was clear no other groups would be allowed in.
We were able to steady our nerves with some lunch before heading to another waterfall. Millaa Milllaa Falls is a picturesque waterfall where people take one of a few iconic Australian photos. It’s an Herbal Essence-type hair flick, capturing the arch of the water trail perfectly with the falls in the background. They really shot a commercial there once. A lot of people in the group nailed it, even some of the guys. Unfortunately, we will never see the evidence because Adam misplaced the camera at the end of the trip so we weren’t able to get the images. A pretty big bummer because I wasn’t using my own camera since it was raining so much. Maybe it will turn up at some point. Fingers crossed.
En route to the next spot, he instigated a sing-along/jam session by busting out some percussive instruments and a bubble machine. The highly amateur cymbal and tambourine playing got grating real fast but somehow the bubbles made it ok. A nice group of fellow tour-goers kept spirits high throughout the day even though we had brutal weather.
We stopped at a freshwater lake that had a crocodile in it (that we didn’t see) and a gnarly fig tree before heading back to Cairns. It was a decent little trip in the end that could’ve only been made better by some sun and some photos of the experience.
That evening I did a free booze circuit by winning trivia at the hostel (free shot), going to a hostel-hosted event (free mixed drink), and going to an Uncle Brian’s after party at another bar (free pitchers). I need to exploit this train more often.
For my last full day, it was time to snorkel the Great Barrier Reef.
I boarded the SeaQuest at 8am and watched the rain clouds swirl into Cairns. As we departed the harbor and got our safety briefing, it began to pour. Seemed like it was going to be rough weather yet again.
After cruising out to sea for a little over an hour some of the clouds parted ways and it was looking like maybe we’d be able to avoid the serious rain.
There were more divers than snorkelers on board so they went out to prepare first. Then the 6 of us top water folk were able to jump in. I was paired with an older gentlemen since all of the other people were coupled up. Buddy system and all that.
At the Reef
Firstly, I was surprised by the setting. I thought we’d be in really shallow, crystal blue water with panoramic views of the reef. It kinda looked like we were just in the middle of the ocean near a barge and two other ships. The overcast day may have played a part in that.
Anyhow, we got in the water and immediately saw a ton of fish loitering around our boat. We swam out a little ways and found the reef. It was a lot more vibrant and lively than any of the reefs I snorkeled in the Whitsundays. Conditions-wise, it was a lot more turbulent being the ocean and whatnot. It was funny because whenever I got pushed around by a wave, I could see the same happen to all the fish a few feet below. Interesting that I thought they wouldn’t be affected.
The reef ranged from 3-30ft deep, roughly, so it was cool to see the difference in aquatic life at those two depths. We saw one turtle and of course a million different varieties of fish.
We were called back to the boat after what felt like 20 minutes but was actually an hour and a half. Time for lunch and to move the boat.
After we grubbed, we were given another hour and a half in the water. My elderly partner took a nap after lunch, so I was finning it somewhat solo out there.
The boat didn’t move all that far but it was enough to see a different section of reef. There were a few moments where I was being stalked by some mammoth fish off in the distance. I kept turning my head to see it looking at me, then it would move on a little bit and be on my 6 a few minutes later. It looked pretty gnarly too. Like some dark prehistoric thing with large fins and a thin stinger at the bottom or something. It never came close enough to be a real problem, but it was unsettling. I also saw a black tip reef shark at one point. It was swimming slowly along near the bottom, like 20ft down so I wasn’t able to get a great look at it.
Fish Stalker
I returned to the boat just in time to beat a heavy rain that moved in quickly. The whole GBR snorkeling experience went by in a flash. It would’ve been cool to have a little more sun to make the colors of the reef stand out more but it was still righteous. I was also hoping for a few more marquee species, but I’ll take what I can get.
We sailed back to the marina and that was that. All of my notable Australian adventures had come to a close (for this time around).
The only thing left to do was repack my things and shuttle to the airport for my flight to Bali the next day.
It’s hard to believe that another few months have elapsed. There were some highs and lows in there without question. I’ll throw together a little summary of Australia post in the next few days to wrap up all of my thoughts.
I had to hustle off the bus and into a safety briefing for the Fraser Island excursion because I was already late. I think the entire group was waiting on me.
There was a group of 26 people that got split into 3 cars.
Car #3 Aida (England) Kirsty (Scotland) Marvin (Germany) Max (Germany) Nathan (USA) Sabine (Netherlands) Sonja (Germany).
A good mix. We worked through a few rounds of paperwork and a horrendously old 12 minute long informational video. Then most people went their separate ways to sort out the alcohol and snacks they were going to bring.
Aido
MegaPrime 4×4
Down & Up the Dunes
All 26 of us reconvened around 6am the next morning to grab a quick breakfast and pack up our vehicles. That’s when we also met our guide, Aido, who endearingly referred to us as “critters” the entire trip.
Our SUVs were equipped with very necessary 4wd, an AUX cable so everybody could DJ, and a CB radio to communicate with the convoy.
Fraser Island is the world’s largest sand island and stretches over 120km. There’s very little infrastructure, so it’s mostly camping. To get around, you’re either driving on the beach or some incredibly sandy and bumpy paths.
Aida volunteered to take the first driving shift which seemed to be a fun one. She got to load us onto the ferry and do a bit of inland driving right off the bat because it was high tide. Ended up being a pretty good chunk of time which the group used to start getting to know each other.
Our first destination was Lake McKenzie. It was a beautiful, crystal clear natural lake. For my money, I think this was the best stop. We all took a dip in the water which was the perfect temperature. The sad part was that we didn’t get to spend much time there. But, on the bright side, this is where we settled on the name of our vehicle: MegaPrime. It was a mixture of Megatron and Optimus Prime (the best parts of the good and the bad) and also the new Amazon delivery option we invented. When you choose MegaPrime shipping, your item is delivered to you immediately upon payment. Let us know how much you’re willing to buy that Service Mark for, Besos.
Lake McKenzie
Everybody was hungry and the next stop was lunch, so at least we were getting to satisfy that urge. On this leg of the drive, Car 2 started to develop a reputation of being the black sheep of the group. “You’re too far to the left Car 2!” It was a common refrain, followed by an abyss of silence on the CB and no adjustment of course.
In the deep sand, it was important to follow the existing tracks and avoid oversteering the car. There are plenty of people that have gotten bogged or flipped from fighting what the car naturally wanted to do. It was sort of comically tense for a minute but thankfully it all worked out.
We arrived at Central Station, the old logging hub, and set up a wrap buffet. Wraps. We got to know them very well as that was our lunch for all 3 days. I think everybody wrote that down on the feedback form.
In any case, the entire group got a chance to mingle and then go on a walk through the forest. There was a creek that was practically invisible because of how clear it was. The short loop track brought us back to the pavilion and then we headed out.
We made it to basecamp in the early afternoon where Aido gave us the lay of the land and a brief talk about snakes, spiders, and other animals we might encounter. Everybody claimed a tent, unpacked some gear, and gathered back up to crack the first beer.
The majority of us went for a stroll up a large sand dune to watch the sunset. There was initially some worry about clouds, but it ended up being a solid one.
Once we got back to camp, we fired up the BBQ and had community dinner. There were card games, lots of chatting and all the good stuff associated with group bonding. Several hours into the night, a small group went for a quick walk to the beach to look at the stars. The sky was brilliant without any light pollution and you could clearly make out the Milky Way. It ended up being a relatively tame evening by the time we were all zipped into our tents and ready for bed.
Personally, I got a pretty shit night of sleep. First off, it was smotheringly hot. There wasn’t really a way to ventilate the tent because you had to keep out the bugs. And that was the second reason I was partially on edge the whole evening. The spider talk was in the back of my mind and I found a weird cricket trying to share rent just before I turned off my headlamp for the night.
I was half conscious when our 7am wake up reggaeton started playing. It took the group around an hour and a half to have breakfast and get ready to depart for our day 2 activities.
It was the best day.
First we drove for a while on the beach to a spot called Champagne Pools. The rocks and waves created a pool like formation that you could swim in. Or you could stand out on the edge and attempt to get swept away by a rogue wave crashing on the rocks. Most people just chilled and watched the “swoosh” happen.
Next we went for a short walk up Indian Head to a cliff outlook with awesome panoramic views. We realized pretty quickly that it was a well-crafted green screen and Dolby 8.12 surround sound. I think that was the number. It still looked really amazing for being fake so we didn’t let it disrupt our experience.
Indian Head Views
Then we did a quick scoot back to camp to have lunch. Obviously wraps. Before we left on our next adventure, somebody found a huntsman in their tent. Aido picked it up and a few people had a run letting it crawl on them. Gnarly.
Once that excitement died down, we made our way to Eli Creek which was kind of a lazy river. I mean, it was really lazy in the fact that it couldn’t be bothered to be high enough to easily float down it on a tube. It also was pretty short and crowded. Still a chill situation with awesome weather.
Two groups took a quick plane ride around the island. It was a tiny little prop guy that took off and landed on the beach. By all accounts, it was worth the $60 price of admission.
On the way back to camp, we stopped at a shipwreck to scope out the rusted SS Maheno. It was nifty to see the skeleton of a ship so close up. I wonder how many years it’ll take to completely rust it away.
For dinner, it was a group effort to cut up a bunch of veggies and get a bolognese together.
As it was the last night, it was the go hard night. Miracles happened that night, some would say. They would mainly be talking about the creation of the world’s newest and carb-friendliest drinking game — PastaPong — and the league that supports it. CLICK HERE for a list of the official rules.
That’s what happens when you combine alcohol, a huge community table and a bunch of leftover penne.
The night digressed a bit from there. Although we did make up a game for cleaning up the errant pasta. There was never a chance it was going to last long enough to get it all though.
After a few other miscellaneous games, there was a good vibe at the campfire. Xavi, a guy from Barcelona, was playing some songs on his guitar, as is fitting, and everybody was digging the situation. At some point Aido came down and was crushing some tunes as well. There were some good jams and I think marshmallows? I didn’t catch that part.
Gradually, the group petered out. A small contingency went to find the party beach but got lost along the way and ended up stargazing again.
I’m not sure how many people were ready for the 7am reggaeton alarm, but there it was again.
It was our last few hours on the island. We packed up our stuff and said goodbye to the campsite.
MegaPrime was sadly infiltrated by two people that wanted their chance to drive. We later found out that they weren’t even supposed to because they didn’t attend the briefing. Our convoy also got stopped and breathalyzed by the island police at one point, which Aido said was like the third time that had happened to his tour in 6 years or something.
Anyway, our only destination for the day was Lake Garawongera. It wasn’t as picturesque as Lake McKenzie, but it was substantially less crowded and offered us a great place to have a swim and chill.
We had our final round of wraps and drove to the ferry to be shepherded back to the main land.
We returned to the hostel around 4pm. The consensus was to keep it going with some dinner and more beer. We played a few games around a nonexistent campfire and made one last pilgrimage to the beach to check out the stars.
The next morning was bittersweet in that everybody was leaving. It was nice how everybody got up and was intent on seeing each other off though.
I was the last man standing, waiting on a 7pm bus.
What an amazing experience. It’s hard for me to rate Fraser Island based on the island though. I think it was really the group of people that made it such a worthwhile trip.
My two hopes are that we keep our Party Pippies Puppies chat alive for a long time and that my Whitsundays sailing excursion can somehow compete with this outing.
