← PreviousClimbing Mount Batur: an unforgettable sunriseThe night had been chaotic. For one thing, our room didn't have real windows, and on top of that it looked out onto a street overrun with scooters. Add the noise of a bar playing excessively loud music, and our sleep was hardly restorative. After breakfast at the hotel, we waited for the person who was supposed to take us to the port. The man at reception had told us someone would come and pick us up, but an agent from the boat company dashed by to give us luggage tags and left again.
We were a bit wary as we headed for the port. There was no information available, and we found our way by following the pack of tourists already there, hoping someone was sure they were right. Rather unfriendly company staff confirmed to other travellers that this was the right place and told them to wait. So we waited until a man in the boat company's T-shirt came and spoke to us in Balinese, then left with our bags. A little surprised, we started following him, but the flow of passengers stopped us moving forward. Cassandre managed to stay a reasonable distance behind, but I lost sight of them completely.
Except that she had the tickets, so I found myself on the quay not knowing where to go. The staff I asked for directions asked for my ticket and told me I couldn't board without one. I was a bit lost when Cassandre found me. She'd lost her temper with the employee, who had of course demanded money because he'd dragged our suitcases five hundred metres. She'd given him a dressing-down he wouldn't soon forget, and probably not one he often heard from a woman.
The trip to Gili Air went fairly well, and we were pleased to find our hotel for the night very quiet and our room nice and spacious. We enjoyed the beach a bit and tried snorkelling, but the choppy sea made it rather difficult. I gave up quickly while Cassandre persisted longer. We lounged on our towels for another hour before showering and going back out for sunset. The colours on the west side of the island gave the landscape an absolutely magnificent pinkish hue, and I took the chance to film a few drone shots while Cassandre handled the photos.
We walked along the promenade to find a place for a drink. We settled into a very nice little restaurant where you could half-lie on daybeds sipping a beer. A thought then came to mind: it was the first moment since we'd arrived in Bali that we felt good. No stress, no one constantly accosting us, no scooter noise.
We really appreciated these moments of calm and the evening went perfectly. We had a last drink at a beachside shack where an Indonesian man sang popular classics in the moonlight. We went back to the hotel delighted with our evening. We woke peacefully. Apart from the mosque's call to prayer, nothing had disturbed our sleep. We were even pleased to have experienced this cultural moment, so rare back home. After a not-so-great breakfast, we headed for the best part of the island for snorkelling. The tide was high, the beach had disappeared and we had to go all the way north to find a strip of sand. We laid our towels down and went to play for a while on a swing set in the water.
That was before the spot was invaded, mostly by girls wanting their photos taken. We watched the routine: a couple would pass, the young woman would see the spot and ask her partner to immortalise the moment. Newlyweds, clearly on honeymoon, spent more than thirty minutes there with a photographer. We quickly forgot the idea of swimming. The current was too strong and the seabed hurt our feet terribly. We basked in the sun, and after a few hours it became far too intense and we beat a retreat. We had a bite at a little warung, then collected our bags from the hotel and headed for the port. That was the start of our ordeal.
The boat was due at 2:45 pm. Of course we were prepared for it to be late, and it arrived at 4. By the time we'd boarded and picked up passengers on the neighbouring island, we left at 5. And that's precisely when the real nightmare began. The boat charged along at crazy speed, hitting troughs and slamming down onto the water with a deafening crash. The ocean came in from all sides and we began to seriously fear for our luggage. I closed my eyes and fixed my mind on a distant point. The pitching of the boat made me feel sick, and the smell of a dozen other passengers being sick didn't help.
People were yelling at the crew because they were roaring with laughter at the state we were in. You could tell they took a perverse pleasure in mistreating tourists like that. After two interminable hours, we arrived after dark at the port of Padang Bai. Here again, taxi drivers harassed us as we got off the boat. We told them where to go, as we were clearly in no state to be polite. A young Frenchwoman got into a row with one of the staff, who looked down on her and laughed. By some unhoped-for miracle, we collected our suitcases without a single drop of water on them.
We got out of there, weaving between hawkers of every kind. We found a taxi further into town and arrived at the hotel around 8 pm, completely exhausted. I had to take medication because the crossing had upset my inner ear. We went out to eat without much enthusiasm and ended up in a restaurant serving mediocre food at too high a price, to which they of course added hidden taxes for tourists. We went to bed after what was probably the worst experience of our whole year. Disgusted by it all, we stayed shut away in a hotel until our return to France.