beach

Turtles, Joss shots and sunburns


Gili Trawangan, Indonesia: I have found the Indonesian Corfu, Koh Phi Phi, Koh Phangan or Koh Tao. And I love it.

After arriving on Gili Trawangan and getting lost on our way to our hostel, Gili Backpackers, we hear about a legendary shot called the Joss shot, which is a packet of energy powder and a shot of either vodka or tequila, mixed in your mouth rather than in a glass.

As if this is the mandatory check-in ouzo shot, we immediately head to the bar to get one, then we go snorkeling. We walk along the beach until we reach the northern point of the island, where the beach is emptier, and there are no boats. From here, we see a giant sea turtle and we haven’t even been in the water for 3 minutes, so we squeal with excitement.


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Back at the hostel, we celebrate our turtle sighting with more Joss shots. We join a table of some English and Germans and before we know it, everyone’s joined the table. Since we watched The Interview like three times back in Kuta, our new thing is to quote Katy Perry’s Firework, and as I am doing that, a German girl with an English accent, Clara, comes up to me and a new friendship is established. The rest of the night we quote Taylor Swift, The Little Mermaid and other artists that we oddly enough know too much about.

At 10 PM the bar at the hostel closes, and we are all kicked out to respect the nearby village and mosque. At this point I am the best kind of drunk I can be, so as soon as we get to a new bar, I introduce our group – Belgian guy whom we call Waffles, German Pervert, Clara, Pete and other people I don’t remember – to Troll dancing. Troll dancing is when you dance with or on people without them noticing. So basically, me and German Pervert walk behind people and start dancing on them, and as soon as the victim turns around, we pretend that nothing has happened. It’s way more fun than it sounds, so I keep going for God knows how long, much to the amusement of everyone else.

The next day I am obviously not feeling very well. Pete and I hurry up and go snorkeling, which temporarily gives me some relief, but after some turtle sighting and diving, I am swimming back to shore and the nausea hits me again. Hard. One of the main reasons Pete is my friend is that he encourages me to throw up right there, on the beach, not even flinching as he says it. So I do. In unrelated news Gentlemen, I am still single.

After some food – they do not have good food here, which is such a bummer – we go back to Gili Backpackers, and while Pete is being social in the pool, I fall into my bunk bed. My equally hungover roommate, Tim, and I then discover the hard way that AC is turned off in the rooms from 11 AM to 4 PM. Even though it is slightly colder just outside our room, where the pool and the bar is, we decide to stay indoors and sweat through our bed sheets, suffering loudly. Pete walks into the room occasionally to get stuff from his locker, and at one point, while I’m soaking wet and in fetal position, he laughs and says I suck at life before walking out. He does this like 4 times a day, but at this point I am so mad that I have to get away, so I get up and go for a walk. That’ll show him, right?

The guys at the hostel bar are telling stories from last night, most of them involve me, so I’ve set the bar pretty high for myself. With my hangover, I know I am only going to disappoint tonight. Still, the guys manage to force some Joss shots in me, which both sickens me and oddly enough, also stabilizes my stomach a bit. I get started on a Bintang lemon beer and eventually reach an acceptable level of drunkness.  I am wearing Pete’s Indian headdress and lipstick as facepaint, and call myself Dripping Tampon, the Chief’s favorite daughter. Yes, that’s my Indian name.

In my drunken state, I force Pete out for a second dinner – our first one is at a pretty good Thai place really close to the hostel, but I throw up on myself immidiately after eating there – and we go to one of the restaurants on the beach, where all the locals are cheering loudly, and the tourists are staring. After some food and ginger tea (WTF Pete, now we’re sweating even more), we head out to a silent disco party with our group and two English girls. A silent disco is where everyone is wearing headphones, listening to the music through them, but at this bar, the music is pretty shit, so we go to a ninjas and nurses party instead. I tell people I am a nurse. You know, traditional medicine. It is completely crammed, and I am very much in the way with this Indian headdress on, so I head home. It’s around 11 o’clock.

A few hours later, my roommates come back to the room after having sex in the shower, and then all my other roommates come back home, turn on the lights and talk for an hour. Our Kiwi roommate gets back at 4 o’clock and has forgotten the code to our room, so he is banging on the door until someone opens for him, and then he immediately goes back outside to go to the bathroom, and once again bangs on the door for ages. Since my bed is by the door, I have to open it for him. An hour later, morning prayer starts at the mosque.

We’re supposed to get on a ferry at 11 the next morning, but we end up staying another night. We follow a now regular pattern of getting breakfast and then going snorkeling. This time we bring a few people with us, and end up going really far out in the water. We see like 4 sea turtles, and Pete and Ferdinand from Germany even tries to touch them.

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We go back, less than two hours later, and I am looking very sunburnt. A few hours later, I am bright red, and blisters are forming on my hips and lower back. My German roommate lets me borrow her aloe vera and she even slathers it on my back for me while I moan loudly. Clara, Pete and I rent bikes to go see the sunset on the other side of the island, where swings have been put out in the ocean. We sit on bean bag chairs on the beach, drinking mojitos and watching the sun set through the clouds. Suddenly, the sky is bright red, pink and orange and it’s just the most beautiful thing ever.

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A bit drunk, we go back to turn in our bikes, get some Thai food and then start drinking. Again. After like 3 Joss shots I call it a night and just enjoy the cool air on my sunburnt skin in the dorm. I sleep till 8 the next morning.

It’s time to leave this amazing island that I’ve enjoyed so much, but I am happy to go back to Kuta that actually has good food and WiFi, so I can plan my next adventure, which will be happening in the Philippines.

Nha Trang

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When we arrive at 6 in the morning, having sweated and tried to sleep on the bumpy 12-hour busride, then carrying our bags 1 km down the road to our hostel and being met with a receptionist that doesn’t seem too friendly, I’m not really liking True Friends Inn. The room is small and the bathroom shitty. But when we go down to reception after a long nap and is offered sweet pineapple by a Vietnamese guy that speaks a little bit of Danish, I know we have come to the right place.

Nha Trang is a very touristy beach town. Not that I mind. I do mind that it’s full of Russians looking like they’re in a bad 80’s movie with their perms and floral dresses, approaching us and assuming we’re Russians too.

On our first day we do nothing but chill. We find a nice little sushi place for dinner where like 12 staff members enthusiastically shout “welcome!”  at the same time when we come in. So funny.

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We get back to our hostel and our roommates, three guys from Canada, grab some beers and start a drinking game in the reception. We go to Booze Cruise Bar and play drunk jenga and smoke hookah until sometime after 1 or 2 AM.

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I am standing at a food stall across the street, when Sara suddenly starts feeling really ill. She has been playing pool with one of our roommates upstairs, and apparently she has taken a sip of a strangers drink. I buy her a 20.000 dong water and pay for an incredibly short cab ride home, which is 11.500 but the driver wants me to pay 50.000, and of course I start a fight with him while my roommates get Sara into bed, where she falls right asleep.

The next day we are both very hungover. We decide to just take a beach day, which is nice for a change.

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With my sweet pineapple <3

Later, we meet Edda and go for Italian food and then to see the new X-Men movie. It’s decent, although it turns out that our popcorn are caramel popcorn instead of salted popcorn, which is quite a turnoff. I need salted popcorn when I’m at the Movies, and I find caramled popcorn absolutely disgusting.

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We hop on a bus at 8 in the morning the next day, and stay on it for 12 hours. My main entertainment is a snoring lady next to me. We stop for food and bathroom breaks and I get pho and a fanclub of like 5 teenage girls working behind the counter where I order, pay and wait for food. They keep staring and giggling at me like I am the unicorn that they’ve always hoped to see. It’s awesome. Sara ruins my moment in the spotlight by pointing out that it’s just because I’m blond.

Goan at it in Goa – part II

I think The Jungle Hostel the Goan equivalent of The Pink Palace, Greece. Every morning we wake up, even more lazy than the day before, making it a habit to get several King Fisher beers from the fridge before joining the circle of people in hammocks. The dilemma of the day is which dish and cocktail to order from the huge menu at The Mango Tree, the restaurant right next to us.

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Today, we finally decide to go to see the beach – in daylight, that is. Our new German friends and Katherine from Canada join us. The beach isn’t quite the lonely tropical paradise one might assume, although it is rather empty. Still, we head toward the end of the beach to avoid onlookers. It is very common to get stared at and have your picture taken when you’re a tourist in India, but if you’re a tourist in India wearing a BIKINI, all hell breaks loose, and the video cameras are out. It’s not exactly pleasant to have your fat, milky white thighs on a strange Indian man’s cellphone forever… or until he breaks it and gets a new one.

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A very nice old lady with a big bucket on her head stops by and offers us various fruits, like mangos, papayas and coconuts. I have always wanted to drink out of a coconut, so she hands me one with a long red straw, along with a smaller coconut to eat. This is just amazing, soaking up the sun and overdosing on coconuts!

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After a few hours of tanning, throwing sand at each other and crashing into the huge waves, we go back for a shower and some lunch at The Mango Tree. Being out in the sun always gets me so light headed and tired, so we take a short nap before going back to the common room. We’re leaving tomorrow, so we need to figure out our next step. After that and a meeting with a travel agent on the other side of the road, we grab dinner at – drum roll – The Mango Tree (surprise, surprise) with Selina and a guy named Tal. We have a pretty amazing feast of fried rice with eggs and a thai dish of vegetables, walnuts and almonds. So much yum. With full stomachs we join the circle of people on pillows at the hostel, where drinks, beers and joints were passed around – we thanked no to one of these, but we wont tell you which one it was ;-)

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Will you look at this trippy panorama I took!?

It’s around 1.00 and it’s time for bed. I am exhausted.

Several hours later, I wake up with the worst sunburn. I am one huge sensitive lobster – but the worst part is my back. At this point, I could just go to The Pink Palace and stand with my face to the wall and no one would notice me.

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We pack our stuff and meet with a travel agent across the street to get some bus tickets for our next three destinations. In India, a travel agent is just really the way to go. But always go to more than one before booking anything, as one might tell you there are no available busses or trains to your desired destination, or they could overcharge you. a lot. We end up going back there three times before actually getting our tickets, due to whatever reason there could possibly be. It’s not too much trouble though, as we can spend more time in the common room with our friends. One guy from New Zealand is sitting in a hammock and playing the ukulele – or, at least trying to. Tal is offering me his jar of Nivea creme for men for my sunburn. There is just a good vibe and nice people, and it’s hard to leave.

In the taxi from the airport to Vagator, we met two American girls who were going to Arambol. They let us take a few pictures of their Lonely Planet, and painted a lovely picture of the place they were going to, so we decided to give it a try.

At 1.30 we get in a taxi and head to Arambol – it’s only 600 rupees. We are dropped off at the end of a looong bazar, and at the end of that, there is an even longer walk with our backpacks through the beach, another bazar and then a few huts. It has been the worst hike of my life – so far. We arrive at Ludu’s Guest House, and a man shows up out of nowhere and shows us a room and that’s it – no reception, no money, no check-in. It’s a bit shady, but whatever. We just lock our bags to the windows to be extra safe, and we head out to explore the shops – of course, we spend way too many rupees. This place has so many shops full of everything that a hippie could ever want, so of course Arambol is filled with white people with dreadlocks, stretches and wifebeaters with Ganesh printed on them. They’re all probably into yoga, too.

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We’re about to go find some dinner. It’s funny, but we almost have to force down our three meals a day. It might be the heat, it might be the food, or it might be the fact that we are too busy, but we only feel hunger in small waves, and quickly get over it. We rarely finish our food, unless it’s something familiar and bland, like a vegetarian burger or pizza. Indian food is just not for us, I guess.

Well, off to find something edible we go. Right now, I’m blogging from our balcony at Ludu’s Guest House, watching the waves hit the cliffs underneath us while the sun sets. This is life.

 

 

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Goan at it in Goa – part I

Check out at hostel in Delhi. Go to Delhi Airport. Fly to Goa. Share a cab to Vagator Beach with some fellow backpackers. Get lost on our way to the hostel. Find hostel, which is full of young people, just staring at your red sweaty face. Drop new expensive camera and therefore break it. Look for new chargers for computer online, and fail. Get mad. Have a fight. Go to bed. Discover a gecko in the room. Name him Fredo. That pretty much sums up our day. Needless to say, it has sucked.

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Dat cute charge tho

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This should be a sign that you’re heading in the wrong direction, and into a poor neighbourhood. We were sooo sure this was the way to the hostel.

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I obviously cannot get over this whole cow thing

We wake up the next day with an entirely different attutide, though – it must have been because we’ve had an amazing nights sleep. Our hostel, The Jungle Hostel, is very tiny and modest, but it’s full of young people, who sit barefoot on pillows in the common area with a beer in hand all day and night long. It’s just so cozy.

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The main hang-out area, with pillows and sitting hammocks

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Sitting hammock and 50 rupee Kingfisher beer? This is the life

Breakfast is included, so we start off the day by going into the kitchen and grab some toast with jam and butter, and some mini bananas. The mission for today is to look for a charger for the computer in Mapusa (pronounced Mapsa). We get a taxi to the city center, which is also by the entrance of a big street market. While checking out the market, a young local woman follows us around. She seems very nice, and pretends to think Sara has Indian roots. What it all comes down to is that she wants us to check out her shop. I end up buying some toe rings and a scarf, which is way too expensive. We continue our mission to find the charger by visiting dodgy shop after office that sells electronics after dodgy shop, with no luck. Someone suggests we go to Panaji, so we get on a Tuk Tuk. After almost finding the right charger, we decide to go to lunch at a very local place, as in no one here understands english. We have to just point at random dishes and hope for the best. We end up being fairly satisfied with our choices, except we really need to get used to how spicy the food is everywhere.

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There is some garlic naan, fried rice with vegetables and some sort of spinach puree with paneer up in here.

We finally conclude that our mission is impossible, and give up on the whole charger treasure hunt. Back at the hostel in Vagator, we start talking to a few German girls, and even go shopping at the little stalls on the streets with one of them, Gül. I need to get me some India pants! Gül is an amazing negotiator, and thanks to her, we save a lot of rupees on our purchases. We walk back to the hostel together, and I suggest to her and her friend that we get some seafood and then have a bonfire on the beach (see my bucket list). All 6 of us have dinner and drinks at Tin Tin (yes, that cartoon guy), which is a really nice restaurant.

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Gül, Saskia, Selina and Angi

After dinner, we all head for the beach along with our roomate, Jonas, and 12 beers, rosé wine and marshmallows! We pick up some wood and branches on our way, to the amusement of some locals. An old Indian lady starts grabbing branches and hands them to us and I could just die. She’s so cute.

We find a spot on the beach that is as far away from the restaurants as possible. Saskia and Jonas are skilled fire-makers, so we leave it to them to start this thing. A group of people join us, and we all sit and enjoy the big, warm fire with our beers, rosé wine and roasted marshmallows. Even though we have a lot of wood, we constantly have to split up in groups to go look for more in the grassier areas, bringing our flashlights. As the fire is dying, the wood group comes back and lets us know that a lifeguard saw the fire from his tower (what is he doing there in the middle of the night?), and apparently what we’re doing isn’t exactly legal. So we let the flames die, and we head back to the hostel.

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