LOMBOK DAYS / A travel diary

LOMBOK DAYS 1/2/3/4: 

Got our mojo back in the generous desert oasis of AMBER RESORT and the OMG upgrade to a pool villa. Shared the beach with buffalos. Read so many books under coconut palms and fragrant frangipani trees. Daily sesh of something resembling yoga in the seaside Shala is so much better in warm tropical weather.

Tasted sour unripe jackfruit curry and my new fave: Lomak - cassava leaves stewed in galangal spiced coconut milk. I tried making it back here with our still abundant Sorrel and first kale leaves and it was incredibly, perfectly silky.

Scootered along coastal dirt tracks lined with thick fragrant lemongrass bushes and bumpy mountain roads covered in sun-drying corn, always followed by a canon of call’s to prayer, like riding a magic carpet of sound. There’s something heart achingly beautiful about drifting out of sleep every morning to the longing voice of the Imam — a little reminder to pause for gratitude, if nothing else. 

Perched on the road for smokey sweet sate at AMIR’S AUTHENTIC SATAY, rich with coconut and Lombok terasi, as paste made with fermented shrimp and oily fish, the intense heat lulled by Bulayak — a dense, sticky rice cake wrapped in young sugar palm leaves I’ll remember forever.

Chasing surfable waves but mostly end up beached with giant coconuts and it’s good.

LOMBOK DAYS 5/6/7/8: 

Then Kuta Lombok — shock to the nervous system chaos of a fishing village in the throngs of becoming a destination town that deals with growth maxxing by building dystopian infrastructure, razoring beach Warungs for Oceanside resorts and leaving people to live in permanent tent camps along Mandalika beach. Tourism is costly and the feeling of not ever paying enough.

Warm air heavy with the balsamic fragrance of Gaharu incense 'Dupa Gaharu' made from local agarwood. Gorgeous Silk Cotton Kapok trees line the streets, their pods busting with white tuffts. Wafts of clove scented tobacco fuses with the acrid invasion of burning plastic. Everybody smokes. Everybody’s burning shit. Everybody is lovely. Totally regret not riding that Dino Dokar. Dragon fruit smoothie bowls are a thing at KUMBARA VILLAGE, our sanctuary away from heat and sensual overload but the streets are following us through the bathroom drains.

Hiking along the two overcrowded main roads sucks and we’re hiring another scooter — instant freedom vibe. After Christo spend an hour getting kooked on overcrowded reef breaks at Gerupuk, we followed some coral scraped dudes to a sweet surfing wave back to Serangan Beach. Looking for more waves and fresh air took us to low fi CODIUM Beach Club, superb tapas and day drinking on Tampah Beach and we totally profess escapism here.

A damn fine Speak Easy hidden behind a book shelf door, CAPTIKUS, serves pandan leaf infused Negronis and rendang tacos and the vibe is cool whimsy and possibly colonial asking forgiveness. We learn that Kuta gets better after a few drinks and double parking Long Island ice teas with hands down the fucking best ever tofu + prawns in XO chilli oil on silky handmade noodles at JIANG NAN was stellar.

Is all the resort and hospitality development done by Dutch expats? And what was in my Margarita last night? Driver’s picking us up at 11am for a 2 hour ride west — Sampai jumpa Kuta, your OG form is poured so perfectly into that beautiful bay and our hearts ache for your future, please proof us wrong.

LOMBOK DAYS 9-14: 

Lost our hearts to Gili Asahan, a sacred island populated in the 70s by Pak Punkarim who spend a year meditating on the island asking its guardian spirit’s permission to establish a community. You can feel something here and it’s calm, serene and good.

Also, there’s ECO LODGE RESORT and their NAUTILUS resto with paper thin steamed carpaccio di polpo and crazy good pistachio and coconut gelato served under sacred Catappa trees. Our lunch is delightfully interrupted by a herd of horses crashing through the gardens — I so wish my daughter Sienna could see this! We find them all later by the beach eating fresh coconuts and I dream of having ponies in Kangaroo Valley. 

Sunset beach hikes following goat tracks. An abandoned pearl farm, beautiful derelict buildings and ruins of a village mosque, adorned still with intricate woodwork. There are lamellar veils of time here, and many ghosts. An awareness of spiritual presence. A tranquil fishing village with tiny alley ways leading to the center of the island but we sense to stay on the peripherie. Killer swimming in the first real clean ocean of the trip. It’s so dry! Fresh water is scarce and the filtered drinking water is salty.

By boat to tiny Gili Lontar and two nights beach glamping at LE PIRATE. Walked around the island in 10 minutes. Slept to the roar of the ocean. Best swimming in a glorious roll of waves good enough for Christo to bodysurf. Finish my fourth book. Last holiday happy hour. Last drizzle of homemade Kecap Manis on everything we eat here — that totally addictive molasses-like fermented soy sauce simmered forever with palm sugar, spiced with chilli and garlic.

Last swims in that delicious warm liquid crystal and were not sure if one last night in Seminyak to hunt for Sienna’s fake Salomon’s was a good idea. But then OMG DESA POTATO HEAD and its restaurant DOME shows what can be done with expansive vision for immersive culture, brutalist soft core architecture, recycling system and locally grown and sourced produce. It’s like Berghain did a beach club, but without the German gravitas, darkness and subversive industrial angst. It’s phenomenal and we’ll so be back. 

Minds shimmering with beautiful images and memories and hearts filled with gratitude and joy – we're back home.

Love

Johanna + Christo
xx