Goldilocks of the Beaches - Gili Air Was Just Not Right

Yeah, I know, I am a huge complainer for someone with a pretty kush life.  But, I truly am the Goldlilocks of the Beaches.  Problem is that now I found a perfect beach location in Myanmar, the search is over, and nothing else will compare.   

On its surface, the Gili Islands should be paradise to any normal person.  Three small islands nestled between Bali and Lombok, there is a party island (Gili Trawagan), a completely chill island (Gili Meno), and the one in between, Gili Air, which to me sounded just right.

After checking in and out of three hotels, trying to find the one perfect fit, we settled on Sunrise Hotel, for its wi-fi, swimmable beach access, comfy beach front bales, and pool.  

But, things did not go perfectly.  It was not like anything inherently bad happened while we were in Gili, it was just that things did not always go right.

First, the wi-fi was down from the moment we checked in (or more likely before), until the moment we left. With blogs to be published and tweets to be sent, that is stressful for me.  And, more so for Eric who was waiting to hear back about a deal.  We were left with occasional and spotty access at some of the local beach bars, allowing us at least to check email on our iPhones.  

Swimmable Beaches?

The beach access was touch and go.  Some days the water was calm and swimmable, although always with a touch of seaweed, coral, shells, and natural debris.  I know there is no blaming nature, but after a big rain and rough waters one day, all the man made debris joined the top of the beach, making it slightly unwelcoming.  

I learned a few things talking to people about the beaches here in Gili.  First, the population in neighboring Lombok tends to use their rivers as landfills, and when it rains all of that trash flows into the surrounding waters, and over to the Gilis. Second, there used to be a clean up guy who would take care of all debris and trash on Gili Air, and haul it away by boat.  When asked where he took it - to Lombok? Was it burned (a common occurrence throughout Southeast Asia)?  He replied that he just took it a ways out in the water and dumped it.  Talk about job security.  Imagine being paid to clean a site, to only have the currents bring that same trash back to the same beach within a few days, so that you could clean it again.  

As for the natural debris, and in particular all the broken coral bits, I thought you can’t blame nature, can you?  No.  But, you can blame man. I was told that up until a few years ago, the Indonesian fishermen would use dynamite to blow the coral reefs to pieces.  They supposedly stopped it, but all the coral bits made their way to land.  The north side of the island had so much coral that my flip flops crushed it as I walked, making the sand sound more like broken glass.  Now, every scuba diver needs to pay an extra $5 dive fee, which goes to the local fishermen to encourage them not to destroy the reefs with dynamite.  

More Than a Feeling?

In the end, I was happy we did not pick the most chill island, or the party island.  Gili Air should have been just right.  We even purposely chose a more built up part of the island.  After feeling isolated in Ubud, and having spent all of our nights the last two months just the two of us, we were looking forward to being surrounded by people.

The straw topped bales, or beach huts, at the hotel worked pretty well, although as the days wore on there was increased competition as our little beach became a parking lot for day trip snorkelers.  The first morning we felt a little like we were under attack by a group of Koreans, who approached the beach in 4 different boats, all the same speed, and pulled into park.  They popped out, took over every available bale, got suited up in snorkeling gear and life preservers, snorkeled for about 25 minutes, popped back out, made some more noise, and were off, with the Korean flag proudly flying on one of the boats.  It was quite surreal.

As for the pool, it was a perfect temperature, and a decent size, but every afternoon was taken over by the local dive school for lessons.  Usually it was not a problem for us to share the large pool with 4 or 5 divers, but one day the group of 5 took over the entire pool.  We were left with a little corner of the pool, and even then I almost took a fin in the face.  

But more than all of these little inconveniences, there was just a feeling about the place.  The food was fine, and we even scored some great fresh grilled fish.  Most of the servers were nice, and some of the hotel staff were friendly.  The music at the local beach bars and restaurants was pleasant enough and never blaring too loud.  

There was just a feeling I got, though.  I felt a uneasy.  A little like I did not belong.  The other island hoppers included couples and some families, mostly European.  It is not a backpackers’ island, like Gili T.  Our age fit in well. We should have felt relaxed and at home.  But, it just did not feel as welcoming as Ngapali Beach or Thai beaches or even Malay beaches.  There was just something about the place that I could not put my finger on.  We met a Polish couple on Gili Air, and she said the same thing.  

There was just a feeling about the place, that was just not right. So, I remain the Goldilocks of the Beaches. 

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Paradise on Gili Air?

Not only was I hesitant about filling up the backpacks and moving on, but we felt like novice travelers all over again, needing to adjust once more time to life on the road.  I enjoyed our time in Ubud, but thought it strange that we lived for over 2 months on an island, and never saw water, or made it to the beach.  That was about to change for our last week in Indonesia. 

The driver was scheduled to pick us up from the villa in Ubud around 7 am.  We did not sleep much the night before and were ready to go way early.  We chatted with Komang in the parking lot while waiting.  Apparently, we were the last to be picked up, and the van was full, leaving me once again propped next to the driver in the “bitch” seat.  I was getting flashbacks to Guatemala, but this ride was much more civilized.  

When the van arrived in Padang Bai, we were immediately accosted by vendors, and I had to haggle for some food for the boat trip.  The flyer for the boat said it could take as little as an hour.  The website for the yoga studio out on Gili Air said about an hour and half.  Komang told us two hours.  A couple we had just met said it took them 5 due to bad weather and shipwreck sized swells.  I wanted to at least have a snack in case it took hours to get out there.  

One of the ferry companiesThe boat was fine.  I fell asleep despite the rocking, and we made it to Gili Trawagan, the largest of the 3 Gili Islands, in a little over an hour.  We waited while most of the passengers and their bags were taken off, and new passengers to get on board.  Then, we popped over to Gili Air, our final destination in less than 10 minutes.  All in all, it was way better than I expected.

The moment our feet hit dry land, though, the defensive traveler in me came back like a bull.  A guy on the beach asked if we needed a room.  I politely replied no thank you.  He asked again, and I replied, no thank you, we have a room.  He persisted asking several more times and when I started to lose my patience, so did he.  He started complaining that he is from Gili, he lives here, and I am being rude.  I just walked away, but in my head, I was saying to him that I was entirely polite until he would not leave us alone.  This was not off to a good start.  It was not the friendly island welcome I hoped for.

We made a reservation at a little bungalow on the property of H2O yoga studio. It was pretty cheap and simple, and inland, but was only a 5 minute walk to the beach.  We followed the signs along the dirt roads, winding around the horse drawn carts - the only mode of transportation on the island, aside from bicycles.  We arrived during a yoga class and quietly were shown our room.  It was simple, and tiny, and dark, with a shared bathroom on the other side of the yoga chalet.  The owner was friendly and said if we did not like the room, no big deal.  We could take a look around for another place and leave our stuff with him.  I used the toilet (which did not flush, not a good sign), and we found our way to the beach.  

The road from H2O forked at the beach, we went left.  We started to ask about other places and realized it would not cost too much more to be near the water.  I had heard that being inland was often a problem with no air con because the breezes just don’t make it back that far. 

We found an interesting place, with cows and Komodo dragons on the property.  The room was fan only, which was fine with us.  It had an outdoor shower and bathroom, with a frog that greeted us (Eric accidentally kicked the frog while using the outdoor toilet).  The most unique part of the little bungalow was that the bed was set over a stone floor - individual rocks surrounded the bed.  It was architecturally unique.  

Rock floor, what were we thinking?

We haggled over the price for a bit and settled on the room.  After we checked in for the week, though, we realized there was a confusion over the price of the room (or a little scam, it was unclear to me).  While we were discussing the price, it was quoted in both Indonesian rupia and US dollars interchangeably.  We thought the room was $25, but he was offering IDR 325,000, about $8 more a night than we assumed.  We were annoyed, but he offered to drop it down to about $30 a night.  Fine. 

Then, we went for a walk.  The beach in front of the villa had a lot to be desired.  It was narrow, rocky, and hard to swim.  But, our guy had told us in the afternoon it is better to swim.  So, we grabbed a quick lunch on the beach nearby and started to walk.  We wondered whether there was some place better to stay, with a nicer beach.  We walked about 2 kilometers, and saw at least one half of the island.  And, I was entirely disappointed.  

I had heard rave reviews about the Gilis, with everyone telling us we needed to go to there.  I was not sure why.  The beach was rocky and loaded with coral, the water was mostly rocky, or filled with seaweed, and in about 6 hours on the island we had yet to see swimmable waters, or anyone swimming in it.  We saw plenty of bungalows and beach bars, which looked calm and chill, but without a pool on property, and the water unswimmable, we already started wondering if we should leave the island the following day.  

We assumed we could change our boat ticket, and thought about going to Gili Meno, the smallest of the three islands.  We thought about heading back towards Sanur in Bali, and going over to Nusa Lembogen.  We even thought about just drinking it up with the Aussies in Legian, where we knew we could at least get a nice beach, although one with lots of waves, and a place with a pool.  Gili was just not what it was cracked up to be. 

We continued our walk and found ourselves on the south east side of the island, which was more built up than the other areas but the sand was softer and cleaner and the water swimmable.  It certainly was not like Ngapali, but then again what is?  That beach is heaven.  We found another place to stay and agreed to check in the following day.  It was on a nicer beach, with plenty of beach chairs and bales or gazebos to sit in, and they had a pool, and we had air con, all for the same price. So, we moved.  

In less than 24 hours, our luggage had seen the inside of 3 different rooms on Gili.  We hoped that by the following day things would be better at our new locale, and we could enjoy the rest of the week, finally on the water. 

By the end of our first night, we found ourselves in a little beach front restaurant, enjoying a $6 grilled fish and decent french fries, while listening to the waves crash just a few feet below.  I was not swatting away the mossies like in Monterrico.  There was a cool breeze, and a large gecko watching us eat.  The music was enjoyable and we were lounging on some pillows while eating.  After dinner we sat outside of our bungalow, without getting eating alive, under the stars.  

Then, we started to curse under our breath every time we tried to walk around the bed over those stupid rocks.  What were we thinking? We can’t stay in a place that hurts to walk to and from the bed.  No matter, we learned our lesson, sought a more practical place to stay.  We started to relax our vacation at the beach, and started to feel more chill.

Maybe Gili Air wasn’t so bad.  

On The Road Again - 5 Things I Learned From “Living” in Bali

After 2 and a half months in Ubud, we are ready to hit the road again.  Somewhat reluctantly.  This is the first time we have “lived” overseas.  Although, I hesitate sometimes to use the word live. 

The two+ months we have spent at our villa have been the longest we have spent in any one place overseas.  It is the longest we have spent on the road with our backpacks completely unpacked.  I don’t even remember what my backpack looks like.  

The VillaWhen meeting people in Bali, they ask me if I live here.  I think, technically, I do.  I do not live anywhere else.  We are paying rent, paying electricity, have mobile numbers, rented a motorbike.  We have unpacked.  Although we don’t have a mailing address here, that is more because addresses do not really exist here, particularly in the small banjars, or neighborhoods. 

As the weeks wore on, though, and we came closer to our departure date, I became increasingly more hesitant to say I lived here.  After all, in a few days, I would be packing up the old backpack one more time to move on.  The thought of packing it up, though, was weighing heavy on me.  It was starting to stress me out a bit.  

The Motorbike GangNot the actual packing part, but the leaving part.  We have had some struggles here in Ubud, and a string of bad luck, but Ubud will always hold a special place in my heart as the first place I “lived” overseas. 

Besides, we are not leaving permanently.  We will return in a short 6 weeks.  Back to Ubud, and back to our same villa. 

So why are we leaving, and then returning?  I was scheduled to participate in a yoga teacher training in May.  I withdrew from the training after I had met the teacher, and some of her students, and learned about her style.  It was just not a good fit for me.  

They say, everything happens for a reason.  I met another teacher at the Yoga Barn who was supportive and inspirational.  I am returning to participate in her High Vibe teacher training program in August.  It will be co-taught by another one of my favorite teachers here.  It will be a life changing experience I am sure.

So, what have the two and a half months in Ubud taught me?  

1. I am ready to slow down more.   

Over the next 6 weeks we will be in three countries and 6 different locations (Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam).  I am not looking forward to packing and unpacking once again.  I am not thrilled with the idea of planning travel, finding some place to stay, worrying about transportation.  

I am happy to explore, and will welcome the break from Ubud, but there is a part of me that liked the stationary life.  This lack of interest in exploring may be a problem for my travel blogger title, but we are looking at some exciting travel opportunities later this year.  I think in the future we will “live” somewhere, and then travel for a month at a time, while keeping a home base.  At least, that’s the goal. 

2. I needed to detox.

I loved Ubud for what it offered me - detox, healthy living, and yoga.  I have taken a crazy number of yoga classes while here.  I have only drank alcohol about 3 times since we arrived.  I have been drinking super anti-oxidant smoothies and wheatgrass shots.  I have not gone vegetarian (shudder), but have certainly upped my intake of veggie and tofu meals, much to Eric’s dismay.  I have lost at least 10 pounds (will know more when we get to a scale again).  I am thinner than I have been in at least a decade. 

The Wheatgrass Shots and Popeye SmoothieI am definitely stronger than I have ever been in my life too.  I am doing yoga poses I never thought possible as a sedentary, out of shape, tax attorney.  I can do headstands, crow pose, and am working on eka pada galavasana (if I could just get that back leg up). 

I know we needed to detox, I just look at the pictures of us in Myanmar, or even before we left the US, but in Ubud, the process is just made easy.  There is little temptation with cheap beer and a buzzing nightlife. 

3. I need access to a large city.

As much as I enjoyed being a local for awhile, I might need exposure to a large city in the long run.  I miss city life.  Although we have been blessed with great Mexican and a decent Italian place, I need a greater variety of food, and places to eat.  I need a town with more than 4 main roads.

Ubud is popular, in part, because there are so many expats living here.  The result is decent access to healthcare, dentists, Western food, and toiletries that many Americans take for granted.  But, it still retains that small town feel. 

The Tempe and Tofu Curry with Red Rice4. I don’t feel like I fit here. 

Ubud is a unique place, one where I do not know if I fit.  There are days where I am in a yoga class at the Barn and think “I never want to leave here.”  

Although the locals have been very welcoming and friendly, we have not really made friends here like we have in places like Hanoi, Kuala Lumpur, or Yangon - a strange mixture of expats and locals that make a location enjoyable. I can’t be expected to spend every night just talking with The Husband, can I?

As open minded as Ubud is, there is an atmosphere of a clique, and I am not sure if we have felt as welcome as I had hoped. 

5. I don’t know if I could live in Ubud long term. 

I would love to teach yoga in Ubud, or elsewhere in Bali in the future.  It is competitive, though, and I am not sure it will be possible for us.  Bali remains an expensive place to live in comparison to other areas of Southeast Asia.  One of us would need a “real job,” even a yoga job, to make it work.  

What I will welcome is an opportunity to return to Ubud in the future.  To know it will always be calling to me as a place to get healthy, to slow down, to focus on yoga.  I know we can always return for a month or more, when we need a chance to clear our heads and heal our bodies from the awful things we do to it in places like Vietnam (cheap beer) and Myanmar (cheap whisky).

I won’t really know until I compare it to how I feel in the “real” world - a world that consists of less yoga, larger portions, and cheap beer. 

For now, the backpacks are filled and we are moving on.