Today I have travelled by boat, by horse carriage, by minibus, by ferry, by another minibus and by foot. Maybe being hungry and tired have caused an emotional wave to flush over me or maybe it is the feeling of being so powerless and helpless in front of the things that you see that it’s easier to just close your eyes from them but today I cried.
After 6 nights in Gili Trawangan I had regained my strength for the trip back to Bali. I had spent my days mostly by doing nothing but a little bit snorkeling and wondering around. Thursday I had a really bad day and I hoped the whole bloody island as far as the pepper grows. After I made the decision to leave on Saturday my spirits got lifted and I had a very pleasant Friday on the island. I had given up the idea to stay in Lombok and as my helpful travel mates from Poland were leaving as well I decided to join them for this long journey back to Bali. I didn’t want to make it too long so I decided to go to place called Candidasa which is very close to the harbor where the slow ferry comes.
After waking up at 7, having a quick coffee and saying goodbye to my roomie Bianca I once again climbed to the boat. To my surprise I felt sad to leave, not so much the island but all the nice people I met. I have been surrounded by so many people and even though I like travelling alone I couldn’t help feeling a bit lonely. The trip itself was much like the trip to Gili so I don’t bore you with the details but this time instead of concentrating to misery I saw the one of others which at the end was worse.
When we got out of the boat at Lombok our bags and us where stuffed in a horse carriage except that the horse was rather a pony. Such a small creature was pulling not just the carriage but three backpacks, trolley, three passengers and a driver. I felt so sorry for the thing that I felt like walking. There is always an excuse that we had a bus to catch and I had no idea from where but the truth is that I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it. The driver kept whipping the poor pony so it would run faster and keep up with the speed of the cars and the scooters around it. I almost didn’t want to bargain the price so he could get some food for the skinny pony but once again I closed my eyes the excuse being that I knew it wouldn’t make any difference and we were upset that we had to pay extra as we were told that the bus would pick us up from the same spot the boat left us.
When we arrived to the harbor we had some time to eat. I got some rice with fish from an old man selling some food packed in banana leaves. At first it was just annoying because for every traveler there were one person who sold something. Old men, young guys, children who were suppose to be in school all selling something. As I got my Indonesian lunch pack for 50 cents I wondered how on earth these people could make a living like this. There was one man who reminded me a lot of my own granddad. He was selling knifes with carved handles for $6 but no one was buying. I had to close my eyes to hide the sadness that I felt. Suddenly my own life seemed too privileged and shallow.
As we arrived to Bali I said goodbyes to my travel mates who were continuing to Kuta and I got into another minibus, this time a quite luxurious one with seatbelts. After short drive we arrived to Candidasa. Soon I noticed that there were not a lot of choice of accommodation and a short talk with passing tourists revealed Candidasa to be rather expensive as well. Finally I managed to find an Australian owned home stay for 140 000 which seems cheap after getting offered rooms for 500 000. As I took a cold but fresh water shower and fell into my big bed with clean sheets I felt empty and sad and I cried.
