Getting Silly In The Gilis

As those of you who are regular readers are aware, the misfortune that has befallen me with regards to the recent toppling of the internet tower has taken it’s toll on the regularity of my writing. It is with great luck, then, that I find myself here in Kuala Lumpur on a visa run with very little to do and a super fast internet connection to play with. So I will use this time to give you a short report on Huey’s birthday trip to the Gili islands.

Huey turned eight this week and to celebrate, his parents organised a trip to the Gili islands for him. I was extremely fortunate to be invited along to join the celebrations and accepted the invitation excitedly. The islands lie just off Lombok and can be reached by boat from Bali in around an hour. Except, of course, when the boat has been cancelled due to exceedingly high winds. Luckily, the boat company put their contingency plans into action and organised alternative modes of transport for us. Thus, instead of our comfortable three-hour boat ride, we ended up spending our day in two taxis, a speedboat, a horse-driven cart and an aeroplane. Yes, an aeroplane. Apparently, cyclonic winds are enough to stop boats but not aircraft. It felt like a ride in a wooden-wheeled chariot on a cobbled street.

Having arrived in the Gilis both tired and relieved to be alive, we settled in to our eco-villa. At this point, an awful realisation hit me. Having spent the past three months in a luxurious eco-lodge, in a gorgeous bungalow and with exquisite food, my standards have gone through the roof. Six months ago, I would have been raving about how wonderful the Gili Eco Villas are, but I am afraid they were nowhere near Bali Eco Stay. They were simply average. What made matters worse is that there were signs everywhere reminding guests about their responsibilities (turning lights off, saving water etc…), but the staff did not practice what they were preaching at all. In fact, on one occasion some of the staff came into our villa and turned on every single light that was there as well as the water tap in the kitchen. I have no idea why. They then left and did not come back until I called them to ask why the sink was overflowing and flooding the villa. There was no explanation.

During the days, we cycled around the island, went snorkelling and lazed on the beaches. It was through this strenuous programme that I was able to top up my scarlet tan. I have a fantastic talent for disguising myself as a lobster whenever I spend more than ten minutes in the sun. Being bald as a seventy year old makes my scalp a rather easy target for the sun’s rays and as such I always look angry or embarrassed when I get burned.

The entire trip was fantastic but by far the highlight was when I went snorkelling and saw a turtle having its lunch. I had been snorkelling for about twenty minutes and had ventured out beyond what used to be coral reefs before the fishermen put dynamite to them in the 1980s. Having seen a fabulous array of fish, but slightly disappointed to have encountered no turtles, I began my swim home before my sunburn became incandescent. Within thirty seconds of turning towards the beach, I saw the beautiful beast scavenging on the sea floor.

I was so overwhelmed that I immediately began flailing around, searching for someone to share in what I was seeing and duly located a fellow snorkeller. He proceeded to give a rather nonchalant ‘OK’ sign and carried on his merry way. I paused and watched my reptilian friend for about ten minutes as it scoured the seabed for food. I couldn’t believe just how gracefully it moved for such a large and clumsy looking thing. I felt so privileged to be witnessing what I saw. All that was missing was David Attenborough’s soft, comforting narration in my ears.

We left the Gilis after three wonderful days there and thankfully we were spared a plane journey back as the boats had begun to run again. This was fantastic news for everyone except poor Huey, who was heavily sea sick for the entire three hours. What a way to end your birthday. Poor boy.

 

Fell in love with another man’s (monkey) girl….

Following the hardships of eating so lavishly at Christmas, it was felt that a little break was in order. With this in mind, Cath, Huey and I took a trip down to the beach at Melaya in western Bali. We were hosted by the Van’t Hoff family – owners of the Saranbuana Eco Lodge, which is a short, bumpy ride up the mountain from where I am living. Norm Van’t Hoff is currently developing a series of eco-villas on the beach there so we took up the offer to camp nearby and make use of the swimming pool and dining facilities.

Sunset at Melaya with Volcanoes in the distance

The beach at Melaya is about as untouched as I have seen. The black sand stretches for miles along the coast and there is barely a soul to be seen. What is more, the horizon is dominated by the formidable volcanic peaks of Java, making for a postcard perfect sunset. The sea fluctuates erratically between glass-like stillness and waves that while too small to surf, are large enough to give anyone sat on the front end of a small speedboat a seriously bruised backside. I have experience in this matter.

So thus ensued thirty fantastic hours of being dragged around behind a boat on a rubber ring, toasting marshmallows, sipping rum and beer (separately), swimming pool volleyball and nursing any injuries that were acquired along the way. I maintain to this point that the only reason why I was the only one to fall off the aforementioned inflatable doughnut is because I was the only one doing it right.

Smooch time

During our stay, I was fortunate enough to be introduced to the beautiful Lola. I say beautiful on the premise that she is facing whoever might be looking upon her whilst considering that particular description, because Lola is a monkey. She is a very cute monkey indeed. However, she is one of those monkeys with the rather unfortunate trait of having a big shiny bare backside that looks a little like the Elephant Man after a run in with a particularly irate swarm of bees. I’m assuming that everyone has seen the Lion King…. Think Rafiki after enduring a good hard paddling.

It felt rude to take a picture of her arse. There is a slight glimpse here.

Lola has to live in a cage at Melaya as she is a rescued monkey and wouldn’t survive if she were released into the wild. But in less than a month she is going to be relocated back up the mountain to live with a man called Simon. He came to Bali almost a year ago to tutor the Van’t Hoff’s 15 year old son Oska and liked it so much that he has decided to stay. So he is building a bamboo house on the mountain and is going to have Lola as a house mate. I have already suggested that he maybe teach her how to bring him beers from the fridge but he assures me that she will still be kept in a cage.

The Green Mile goes Monkey

"Can you feeeeeeeel.... The POW-ER"

But as with Buddha at Bali Eco Stay, I have fallen in love with Lola. She is just like a little person…. with a really red bum. I must have spent about half an hour sat at the edge of her cage while the poor beast searched in utter futility for some hair on my head amongst which there may be some tasty fleas. She found none, so she tried my beard and eyebrows. This is when I really began to notice the strong smell of urine on her hands. Eventually, she moved down to my legs and had a rummage through there instead, checking my shorts pocket for anything worth nicking.

Thieving git

I have always been a sucker for having my hair (it’s actually more like stubble these days) played with, so it is no surprise that I fell head over heels in love with the little piss-soaked princess. But alas, I can’t have her. She is Simon’s girl, just as Buddha is Cath’s. The search for the love of a good (animal) woman continues.

Lola plays the Engine-ear joke on me.