House and huts

I had imagined Bali to be an idyllic, small island which was underdeveloped and heaving with local culture. In reality, it is fairly large, hugely westernised, heaving with partying teenagers and the beaches are not quite the picturesque white sand and blue seas that my mind had pictured. But, I suppose that I did opt to stay near to Cuta, which is the Asian equivalent of Ibiza.
In recent years, Bali has been hit by two bombings, both targeted at tourists - particularly Australians. I made a visit to one of the memorials that had been built after the 2002 bombing. It listed around 200 fatalities and it was upsetting to read the names of young couples and brothers and sisters that had been innocently caught up. As I walked down the steps from the memorial, a local girl approached me and told me that she loved me. It had been over 5 minutes since I had been offered drugs, women or transport, but on the steps of a memorial seemed even less appropriate than the previous 200 times that I had been asked that day. Needless to say, her feelings for me went unrequited!
In order to better experience the culture of Cuta, a visit to a nightclub could not be ignored. These were as well set up as a club anywhere else in the world. There was the usual scene of drunk people, an abundance of drugs being pushed, along with the now not uncommon fare of local girls. Needless to say, I only partook in dancing and drinking (after all, it is easy to get dehydrated in these hot climates). I rarely get around to visiting nightclubs nowadays and whilst dancing to some of the house music. In case you are as unfamiliar as that music as I am, it is the type which has something of a repetitive beat and continues indefinitely. It was some way into the night when it finally occurred to me where the name 'house music' came from. The DJ puts on one record and then goes back to his house, puts on the kettle, watches some TV and perhaps has a bit of a snooze before returning back to the club 20 minutes later to change the record. That must be it!
After all of that exertion, I decided that it was time to head somewhere a little more peaceful. I took a small, fairly high powered speedboat and in less than two and a half hours, found myself in another world, on Gili Air. Gili Air is a small island, around a kilometre across and was much closer to what I had expected from Bali. Whilst it was still lacking in its cultural offering, it did provide peace and much better beaches. There is no motorised transport on the island and the transport is by donkey drawn cart. Hotels had small huts along the beach with open air showers and bathrooms. Even the water here was of the saltwater variety. Whilst tourism had hit, it seemed not to have impacted it too much.
The coastline is marked by coral, which made for excellent snorkelling. The array of colours of the fish was stunning and I managed to track down some 'puffer' fish which, as the name implies are puffed up, almost like a ball.
It was low season and there were barely 30 visitors to the entire island, yet there were, perhaps, 15 hotels and even more restaurants. The tourist trade in the area has been feeling the pinch as Australians (their primary visitors) have avoided Indonesia in the post Bali bombing environment. This meant that all offerings for drugs and tacky bracelets were focused on a much smaller crowd! The locals felt that speaking with an Aussie accent made them more understandable, greeting visitors with 'arwrite maite, ow you doin, no warries'. This sounded anything from incomprehensible to ridiculous and comical but, given that they were generally either trying to sell me a 'massage' or drugs, understanding was not top of my list of priorities.
Despite the 'friendliness' of the locals, Gili Air was a great place to kick back and relax for a couple of days. The sun shone, the waters were calm and reading and choosing food from a menu were the most stressful occasions of the daily routine.
Next week, the final leg of the journey begins. It is likely to involve a couple of days to get the bike released from customs in Darwin, followed by a 2000 kilometre ride out to the West coast. The time out taken in Bali prior to this was therefore far from unwelcome!