Surftrip to Lombok, by Jiro

Bali is a beautiful lush island and Lombok is Muslim and arid... so why go to Lombok? Because theres hardly anyone over there, the waves are amazing and apparently Al Qaeda have a training camp there. Also the old women always have their boobs out...but thats not the reason.

2 of our hotel neighbours, Aussie Rob (sheep farmer from West Oz) and Dutch Leo (journalist from Amsterdam) were planning to go so we jumped on board, loaded up our scooter with 2 boards and a rucksack aand hit the road..at 5.30am. 2 hours later we get to our rusty ferry and settle down for the 5 hour crossing.

As soon as we get to lombok, we know were in muslim land... mosques all over the place and calls to prayer wailing over megaphones. Everything is in stark contrast to Bali- its dry and dusty, there are no ornate balinese buildings, or colourfully dressed locals.

Another 2 hours on the bikes gets us to Kuta, lombok, a ramshackle collection of cheap hostels and restaurants spread out amongst palm tree studded fields, about 200m from a deserted beach on the islands south coast. Cows, goats and naked local children wander around freely, and the whole place has the feel of being on the verge, caught in the moment between the untouched past and the overdeveloped future. In fact, we later learn that an Abu Dhabi business man has bought chunks of land in preparation for mass development, and that a new international airport is under construction, to link Lombok with Singapore and the Middle East. Apparently, its going to be the next Muslim beach resort. Less speedoes, more burk-inis ! http://www.ahiida.com/index.php?a=results&subcat=65

Our hotel is a sh1t-hole, to be frank, but were here to surf so no one cares. The next 2 days we surf 3 different spots, and zig zag around the islands on our scooters. the roads are truly terrible and having 2 people on an old scooter laden with gear, going over huge pot-holes, soon took its toll on our arses. On day 2 we surfed Insides and Don Don inside Grupuk bay. The surf was ok, but hordes of Japanese surfers were there doing what the Japs do best- travelling in droves and taking a zillion pictures. Ceri jumped in to surf but was soon put off by the strange antics of the Japanese, who whooped and hooted like deranged monkeys everytime one of them successfully surfed a wave, nearly got a wave, or completely failed to get a wave.

We all decided to leave them to it and got in our fishing boat taxi to surf 200m further inside the bay. Ceri got stuck in again and rob the sheep farmer slept on he boat- he takes a dim view on waves below 10 feet.

After lunch we headed 45 min by scooter to Mawi bay, passing some deserted beaches on the way. A the beach pictured here, we met an inbred looking family and an ancient lady, who just pointed a Ceri's blonde hair in absolute wonder. Riding the scooters allowed us to really take in our surroundings, and around every corner were suprises. Every 3 km or so was a small hamlet of 3-4 huts, built entirely of wood and straw- naked kids and toothless grannies would wave at us from their huts, while others collected water from wells and herded goats. Scenes from another century, apart from one thing... beside every hut, almost without fail, was a massive satellite dish sticking up into the heavens. Not just a UK style sky dish, but the NASA kind of things jody foster used to speak with aliens in Contact.

Anyhow, I digress, the surf at Mawi was AMAZING, and I got the best waves of my life. It was too big for Ceri who was frying on the beach while i was surfing wave after wave over the colourful coral reef.

It was time to leave and we scootered 2 hours back to the ferry port, in lashing rain, only to miss the ferry. A 3 hour wait followed by a 8 hour ferry (which broke down lots) followed by a 2 hour scooter ride and we were home.(these kids were playing in the filthy water at the ferry port. ceri though the one on the left had a nice bum)