Page after page they turned, moving intentionally across the face of the map. Chapters so dense they were worth saving until the end. Luckily all the best coffee table books are meant to be picked up and appreciated no matter where one starts reading. The history lessons were important. The cultural education mandatory. But the picture of South East Asia when the mind is allowed to wander, for better or for worse, is one of palm trees, turquoise water and sunshine. There is to be much more time spent in the urban sprawl for these adventurers, but before that, it was time to get tropical.

We knew we had chosen the right place to go next when we disembarked the aircraft and in the baggage terminal was a staged photo op of a surfboard with a beach background. You bet your bottom I hopped on that board with zero shame. And then what happened next was another example of what was becoming increasingly common: we were aggressively accosted by cab drivers as we left the baggage area. In these small regional airports there isn’t a ton of security, and not much of a terminal at all, so anybody can camp out and wait for vulnerable tourists. As we made our way to the parking lot there was a literal alleyway of human beings and in what can only be described as incredible coincidence, they all were all promising the lowest price. Luckily the smart half of us had planned ahead and we were able to spy yet another common occurrence on our journey: a familiar last name written on a piece of cardboard. Our driver was punctually awaiting our arrival and confidently ushered us through the throngs of his competitors with a smug swagger to his walk, shoulders swaying just a little more than necessary. Respect. It was a relatively long but uneventful drive to our next homestay on the lovely island of Lombok.

I feel like I am harping a little too often on the quality of our accommodation, but I think I am sharing this so often as an attempt to try and alleviate many of the misconceptions the average Westerner has about this part of the globe. For a fraction of the cost of a room in the first world, the quality of lodging here is genuinely staggering. To be able to travel on a budget, but live like royalty, is such a bizarre feeling. We arrived to our homestay in Senggigi in the dark, so it wasn’t until we made our way to the pool in the morning for breakfast that we understood how well we had chosen. Food was to be served poolside amongst the jungle foliage and fruit trees. “Which smoothie would you like with your breakfast,” the kind owner asks. After pursuing the menu and as always, choosing the option any option that is named after a mythological beast, “Uhhhh dragon fruit sounds lovely, thank you,” I replied. “Look above you,” he says. “Those are the one’s you’ll be drinking.” We were seated beneath the very tree they were harvested from. This does not happen in Canada.

We didn’t have any particular plans for the mainland of this island, so it was nice to just make our way into town carefree and walk the coastline. There are a few mountain hikes and volcano tours and areas on the south coast known for surfing, but we had certain flagship destinations coming up, so we unfortunately didn’t have enough time to spare. Senggigi has a lovely beach directly next to a main street that has a collection of restaurants, bars and small shops. It has a small town vibe, which was perfect timing for us wanting to wind down for a couple of days. We spent our time at the beach enjoying island culture. Even the local football leagues have their games in the sand instead of the grass. We stumbled across a match that was taking place complete with referees and a mic’d up commentator. It was a cool moment where being a traveller overlapped with being a local. The beach was the place to be, no matter where you came from. As I began to take my shirt off and start stretching before joining the game, I was calmly touched on the shoulder and reminded that these were children, and that I was obviously not welcome to play. I was caught up in the moment. And I would have dominated. But good lookin’ out.

Whenever I am travelling I make sure to keep a journal of my experiences. This allows me to not only reflect, appreciate and archive my travels, but it also makes the process of writing much easier when it happens days, months or, embarrassingly, years later. Often I will just keep dot jots of days instead of long form journaling, and therefore I have certain short form or phrases I use to ingrain and encapsulate experiences to memory. One of these phrases I reserve exclusively for the most powerful moments: remember the feeling. I will tell myself simply to remember the feeling. Looking back on a day sometimes isn’t enough. Specific events, personal interactions, meals, views, whatever it may be, could stir up a memory, but it doesn’t always ignite an emotion. The rare occasions when I remind myself to “remember the feeling” can be summed up as the greatest hits album of my travel life. Just like my first copy of Walden, if I ever publish a book, I could see these moments being summarized at the beginning as a teaser trailer for what is to come.

I bring up this concept to preface a moment we experienced on the beaches of Senggigi during an unforgettable sunset. Side note, speaking of sunsets, I am enthralled by them. I would confidently put forward the claim that two of the most incredible, extraordinary, humbling, perspective offering, thought provoking, natural phenomena we have available to us as human beings are also two of the most accessible: star gazing and sunsets. No two are the same (ya okay, stars don’t really move, but there are clouds, and the moon, and you can change location. So back off). Every single chance to witness is staggering, enormous, overwhelming and utterly beautiful. After watching the football beachside the clock conveniently ticked to one of the happiest hours of the day. All of the restaurants and bars spilled onto the beach with patios stretching towards the water with tables and chairs nestled into the sand. But which bar to choose? Eeny, meeny, miny, Bintang. Our server was super nice and I pulled a total Dad move by engaging him with lame jokes. One of the downsides of blogging about these experiences years later is that although many of the memories are incredibly clear, every now and then a certain journal entry is a little foggy (potential Bintang involvement). I wrote that the server and I went back and forth multiple times with the expression “never try, never know.” I mean, it’s great advice, but I have absolutely no idea why it came up here. Still thought you should know. We had a great time and our energy became infectious. No matter where you are in the world, the ‘if people are inside it must mean this place is good’ rule totally applies. We were the first to commit to a bar, which then attracted the next group, and another, until our beach patio was booming. Arriving first meant we got the choice seating, so when the show was about to start we had the best seat in the house. Anchored boats in the foreground floating amongst the fiery final display of the day. Remember the feeling.

Lombok was intentional; Senggigi was a stop over to break up the journey. The main objective for this island was a place that came up multiple times during hostel conversations and also a must see destination from friends and family that had visited South East Asia. Next stop was the famous Gili Islands. We awoke to catch our taxi to the ferry and had a totally normal conversation to start the day. “…Uhhhh did you feel an earthquake last night?” Did we both dream that the Earth moved? Another inconsequential anecdote, but fun nonetheless, right? Our final image of Senggigi was of the owners of our homestay waving us goodbye as we made our way along the winding coastal road towards the islands to the north. It was a beautiful drive through small villages and tropical landscapes. The ferry terminal to get to Gili was another great example of why it pays off to do a bit of research before you embark on a foreign voyage. Very few people spoke English in this particular place and consequently there were no signs or general guidance on how to achieve a traveller’s purpose. However by knowing ahead of time which particular hut to look for, and for what ticket we were in the market for, we were able to avoid a lot of the stress experienced by blonde white girls with double braids and thai pants with elephants on them. Travellers, not tourists.

The concept and terminology of the word ‘genius’ is thrown around quite cavalier in modern society. I would argue the word ‘paradise’ is treated in a similar way. Rarely does one truly experience what should be considered the definitive example of such a state. However having provided the disclaimer I feel confident in saying that without hesitation the island of Gili Air, and in particular Pengani Bungalows where we were fortunate enough to stay, is the closest I have ever come in my life to true paradise. The Gili Islands are a chain of three small islands with a sparse population geared predominantly towards tourism. The perimeter of each island is peppered with accommodation to rival any tropical destination on earth. Our bungalow was stunning and well equipped, but any time spent in the room was to waste the opportunity to be on the white sand beaches and in the turquoise water. Meals and Bintang were served beachside in your choice of hammocks or cushioned booths. A solitary swing set sitting proudly, pronouncing ‘Pelangi Beach’. You can walk the entire ring of the island in under an hour with sandals in your hands and admire the beauty of mountains from afar. No walk went uninterrupted, however, as each passing bar or resort was as inviting as the last. It’s hard to pass a couple bean bag chairs on the beach at happy hour. As the sun was setting we found ourselves in what was essentially our own private bar drinking tropical cocktails nestled underneath a bamboo hut surrounded by the songs of the islands permanent inhabitants. It was truly as if there were more bars than people. Lightning strikes over the mainland. The thick, warm air that precipitates an oncoming summer storm. Eyes closed and a deep breath in. The shoulders sag. Corners of the mouth creep upwards. The night ends with a beach bonfire swaying in a hammock and the mind can’t help but wander back to this concept of paradise.

Part of the reason Gili has transformed into such a popular destination is the fact that coral reefs exist around much of the islands. Therefore the snorkelling is incredible and easily accessible from wherever one might be staying. We rented a couple of sets and headed down the beach to where we were told was our best shot at spotting a sea turtle. Part of the reason it was such a great area is because it was a few hundred meters of knee deep water off shore and protected by a seemingly endless supply of sea urchins! Even with foot protection and clear water you don’t want to be messing with these bad boys, but we were more committed to the turtles than we were scared of these spiky jerks. A careful, and I mean caaaaareful, walk later we finally arrive at the goods. Floating effortlessly at the surface we gaze into another world. Colours beyond comprehension. Fish seemingly from another planet. A flick of the feet, we levitate. Suddenly…..we see it. A man-hole cover is gliding beneath us. We thrash in excitement trying to get each other’s attention pointing giddily at this creature that before had only existed through the commentary of David Attenborough. What felt like ten minutes could have just as easily been hours following a day in the life of this spectacular creature. We swam shoulder to shoulder above this beautiful animal and I was reminding of many of my other encounters with rare nature. It seems like there is always silence. A calmness. A sense of serenity. A bear in the woods, maybe a cracking of twigs. An eagle in the sky, maybe a flapping of feathers. A sunset, maybe a crashing of waves. A turtle, gliding in the underwater, an absence of sound.

The rest of our time on Gili Air, which unsurprisingly involved an extension of our stay, was spent as stereotypically as you can imagine based on my previous descriptions. We lounged on the beach, drank a bunch of beer, swung on those swings, walked the island and fell victim to the mistake many people make during an experience like this: we longingly, romantically, made plans to come back one day. We cannot get lost in the prospect of the future. We must appreciate the present. One must assume they will never come back and then be amazed when the drinks taste sweeter that night.

With a sick sense of sorrow we said goodbye to our new friends at Pengani. (Side bar: we heard months later from others that followed our recommendation that they had upgraded the facility, which included a pool and other new amenities. All of this to say that if you find yourselves in this part of the world, go here. It was incredible for us and sounds like it only got better.) As we made our way to the harbour towards our next adventure two incredible things happened. Early for our ferry, we noticed an outdoor coffee shop and made our way over to discover a two-group Synesso and Mazzer grinder. This will sound like nothing to likely everyone reading this, but all you need to know is I left my resume on the counter and I am still waiting by the phone. The second incredible moment was a chance encounter with a Gili resident. The night before, Katie stumbled into conversation with a local who was just as curious to learn about her story as he was to share the story of his unique existence living on these incredible islands. As we sat waiting for our ferry, we caught eyes with a a guy across the way who lit up at the sight of Katie and excitedly came over to introduce himself to me. I don’t know if it was Indonesia, the island lifestyle or something unique about this particular place, but I was struck by his genuine nature. I believe the people of a country can have the strongest impact on a foreigner’s experience and for better or for worse leave a lasting impression of a place. This was one of those experiences, similar to those I have had in places like Morocco, where there is a real appreciation for travellers who choose to visit and invest in their economy. A deep understanding from locals who love being able to share their lifestyles with the world, and understand, again for better or for worse, that they are dependent on the tourism economy. Instead of pandering, or shame, it is a celebration. The way this man’s eyes lit up when he was able to talk about his life was so inspiring. And the fact that Katie was able to meet this man alone, at night, on her own, on an island, without a shred of trepidation or intimidation was a testament to the joy he lives every day of his life with. Katie was just another of the likely hundreds of Westerners he has met in the exact same spot on that beach and you can easily imagine he tells his story with the same vigour and joy every single time. We said farewell to our new friend ready to embark on the next leg of our journey, to a place that requires no introduction: Bali. A speed boat ferry was to deliver us across the water. Little did we know the fury of the boat’s speed would match the fury of the experience crossing a seemingly timid waterway. But hey, never try never know.

No Regrets.

The Travelling Gentleman