Location: Lombok

Cast: Shannon, Jennifer, Kevin, Richard, Claire and I.

Previously in Indonesian Adventures: We have just had our hopes lifted and found a new found love of handsome, strong men. Only problem is, there are 2 men and 4 women.....uh oh fisty cuffs are on!

Pleasantries are exchanged amongst the group and the Norwegians. NOR- WE- GIANS. This is how you say it, in most languages; but not those from PEI, Canada apparently. Shannon insists that the word is pronounced NOR-REE-GIANS. You decide............Erlend is tall, slim, strawberry blonde and is the better speaker; more confident with his words. Sveinung is also tall, tanned with brown hair. His English is spot on too; both equally "good catches." During most of the introductions I was laid out on the floor, trying my very best NOT to move in order to minimise bowel movements! Half asleep and half awake I can hear all the comments associated with myself "look at her I don't know how she can do it." Next thing you know Kevin has propped up his bag too and is passed out. Then Claire comes down...trend starter. Fact.

The ferry comes close enough for us to see land. We gather our belongings and head down to the lower deck. It's so close, yet so far. Here, we find out that we have to wait for another ferry to leave the port before we can get off. Crikes. Next thing we see is a frustrated Erlend marching up to a local salesperson on board. "How do I get off? I want to get off now!" Whoah there sexy! He hollers another local boatman to get him and his mate off the ferry. These small boats hang around the ferry waiting for people to make this decision so they can make a bit of money. It's all about the money!Next thing you know we are already saying our farewells......emotional. Good to know there are good looking lads still alive.....gutted they were leaving prematurely however. Let us not forget that it is better to drink a little bit of water than to eat a grain of sand....never heard that before? It's a new plan to get rich of mine...make up sayings and sell them on skim boards, t shirts, surfboards and mugs.

So, eventually we pull up to the port and slowly migrate to the deck of heaving sale persons and travel agent people. Lots of loud sounds perforate our ear drums and sweaty locals pollute our eyes. All around you can hear "no thanks....go away...I'm FINE!" I can carry my bag for 2 minutes....I've been lugging it around for over a week now...f*** off.

Yet again we pile up into some kind of automobile where we are driven to a travel office; purchase our boat tickets to the Gillies. The travel man seizes the opportunity to make his attempt on preying on the tired travellers...but in a pack of 6 stubborn people, you can try but are most likely to fail. We'll take the boat ticket but not all the other crap you are demanding.Due to the rapidness of night fall we do allow the b****** to recommend and take us to a certain hotel. We arrive and it's kinda shabby but that's to be expected. Our rooms are located closer to the top of the steep rather than near the pool. Again, this is to be expected. The sheets were semi clean; the bathroom (I guess) was adequate. Truth be it, we were all just knackered and wanted ANYWHERE to rest. And, besides, there was a hot looking guy with a not so good looking friend staying but 2 doors down. Yes, of course I gave him a magic smile as I walked passed him. No, not in front of his door waiting for him to come out, but as we passed one another on the unromantically lit steep slope. It was a 2 way thing....*ahem* yeah, right*ahem*

Into the evening a feast was the last of the daily agenda. Wake up, pack, get onto/into a moving device, get tired, get grumpy, sweat, have a snack, don't drink enough water, laugh, have some water, feel hungry, eat something, get frustrated with locals (or members of the pack) find somewhere to sleep, debate which is the best place, snap at each other, decide on somewhere to sleep, unpack, find somewhere to eat, eat, decide if the food was yummy or s***, go to sleep.

Walking for about 10 minutes a restaurant jumps out at us (hungry, lights on...if the shoe fits) All that matters is that the food was good, everyone enjoyed it and Richard and Shannon had a bust up because Richard called Shannon a control freak. An argument set off as they both wanted to take charge of the bill....the things people get irate about....only this morning I flipped out because someone was telling me I had mud on my jeans ..."I know!" I replied with a touch of venom...I did know and I wanted to be left alone....oh Korea.

An early morning means an early night...ish. For most of us. I try to stay out by the power of the 8 days of sleep deprivation is fierce and bowels being "sensitive" it is wise to retire.

"The coach will come to pick you up at the hotel at 7am." Is it a nice coach? According to the brochure it certainly is. 6:30am we're up and down at breakfast. It's going to be a long day. Breakfast was distinctly below average; more than happy to leave this hotel. Sitting on the steps eagerly awaiting the coach, which will take us directly to the port so that we can hop onto a mini boat and get to the Gilies is a little longer than expected.

More than 45 minutes later the "coach" arrives. The coach resembles more like a piece of debris from a nuclear explosion in the late 60s, possibly early 70s. Heavy eyelids and unsatisfied bellies are not impressed so far with the situation. Our short bus journey to the port ends up being an hour drive to a small cafe. We are greeted with a large number of tourists at this cafe. All of which have just come similar scenarios. Why are we here? This isn't the port? Why did we get up so early? Richard is hitting the roof....I thought I was about to witness my first heart attack victim. It was avoided. Thank goodness.

Yet another hour passes by and eventually someone decides to let us in on some information. The boat that we had been told leaves at 9am actually leaves at 10:15am. Richards veins in every location of his head, arms, legs (and possibly chest and back, I couldn't see that part of him) starts to pulse erratically. He is ready to thump the organiser for his deceitfulness. Finally, we are taken to the port. Bombarded by locals; "buy my necklace? Buy this? Buy that? Let me carry your bag (and I'll charge enough to make you snarl and curse outrageously!)" GO AWAY! Indonesia has many pros but the pet peeve is DEFINITELY the hounding....not interested. Read my expression. That NEVER lies.

I'm soaked by the gushing ocean as I struggle to climb aboard a refugee wooden boat looking something along the lines of an elephant with a back problem climbing on board a pirate ship.The smell of petrol has never been so offensive! Goodness. "It's only 40 minutes. I will be ok" this was my attempt of mind tricks. Tell yourself something enough and it'll come true....Motion sickness was persistently at the base of my throat. I wasn't sure if I was going to throw up or need a change of pants!? That was a long 40 minutes. Directly in front of me was a wavering Shannon. Head in hands and a few murmurs as a reply to "how you doing Shannon? You ok?" ...I've got my head in my hands....that would be a clue to the obvious right?

And, we arrive. This island is small! On the Gillies there are no automobiles of any kind. They only have small horse things and a carriage attached to the back. Really rather embarrassing getting my fat arse onto it though. Why? As soon as you step on it the entire carriage practically touches the floor and the poor horsey. It just looks like it would hurt. Imagine having a big leather strap around your neck and chest, which is attached to a trailer that tips when anything is plonked onto it.Then imagine a hippo. Yeah, work out the rest. It'd hurt.

It hauls around for about 10 minutes when we see the other 2 of the posse (Sara and Charlotte.) They had arrived about 2 days earlier. We stay further down the beach as to save costs. It was far nicer than the hotel from the night before. The fact it was much cheaper didn't have anything to do with it. The beach being directly in front of us did though.

At last, we are going to get to just relax. Knowing we were staying still for 3-4 days was welcomed amongst all. The weather plays the same pattern it's been playing. Sun, then cloudy shortly followed by a shower. Thank you to the sky above! No point in messing around; let's get in the sea!

Splashing around in such an exotic location such as there is a luxury indeed. Truly thankful to Korea for providing me with this holiday. After totally submerging myself under the water and adopting raisin like finger tips it's time to get out and dry out a bit. Securely wrapping myself in my snakes and ladders towel I'm in this moment content. The moment is heightened thanks to an extremely impressive physique walking in our (Claire and I, the others had gone somewhere at this point) direction. Low and behold it is sexy Sveinung from only 1 day ago. How delightful! "Hallo!" (This is Norwegian for "hello.") With an uncanny likeness in appearance to drowned rodents we speak for awhile and watch his backside as he strides into the exotic surroundings.

Naturally, boasting is in order. Gillies....is tres small. It is more than likely that you will most definitely bump into people several times a day without even trying. After a relaxing day it had gone 2pm and a beer never sounded so good. "Bintang please!" and then another. Everyone was pretty pumped. Good looking are few and far between....especially in Korea. The need to perv was at it's most crucial time. If we don't see a handsome fella soon all hope is lost and we will have to turn into lesbians. And, I'm sure none of us want that.

Evening approaches not before too long. The Bintang is still flowing and we are set up for the evening! At maximum capacity within the group we struggle to all fit onto one of the hut/table things set up along the beach. I decide with my Bintang head fully on that I will sit on the wall that overlooks the sea. Sounds good? Yeah, except it is night time and I can't see anything and a consistent trickle of sea spray trails down my shin. The sea is stormy tonight! The wall isn't so comfy; naturally I head towards a table with men on it and ask "please may I borrow this pillow?" Flutter the lashes. Winner. Sitting contently on the wall I absorb the oceans sounds and block out all other sound (i.e music and people nattering; a skill I've picked up whilst working in Korea!)

The stormy sea doesn't take long to enforce it's power on me. Before I had a chance to move I become semi soaked from the crashing wave against the 7ft stone wall I'm sitting on. b*****. Hurling myself round to face the patriots of the bar and the noise, I head back to the table from where I borrowed the cushion. Seizing the moment (and noticing that there was absolutely no way I was going to get my arse onto our table) I bombare the guys with "hello, I'm Erin blab la bla yes Bintang good. You like?" (Practicing my Konglish/ broken English that I have accustomed to from daily contact with the new found language!) It works and I get a drink out of it. Thanks Walter (a guy from Holland; he was after a lady. He didn't get one. Not with that overbrow!) and Ben/Rob or John? (USA, boring, quiet, just plain difficult to speak to. No time for that.) At the end of the day I got my drink!

Soon the dance moves were working their magic on the dance floor (or so the photos would suggest) and sweat was dribbling down any part of my flesh that wasn't in contact with the material of my clothes.

Hey hey what's this? 2 young strapping lads...yes, sexy Norwegians! Not before long, the ferry girls (Shannon, Jen, Claire and I) were engaged in meaningless chitter chatter with the lads. Lounging on the overly comfortable huts, carpeted and decorated with cushions. Lovely. So, it will not be surprising then when I say that I fell asleep for an hour (according to unreliable sources.) Awaking from my nap, I stumble towards the toilet, once you break the seal and all that jazz. Unfortunately, approaching the devilish hut of cosy desires I bash my big toe on the stone steps. With a mighty amount of force my toe is bleeding impressively; give Victoria Falls a run for it's money or Jen's wrist! (Or not.) Erlend (Shannon's favourite) is a medic in the army (or something along those lines, guess I wasn't concentrating. Too busy staring at those intense blue eyes ;) ) and rushes off to get his first aid kit. At the time I didn't think it so bad. On later reflection, I realise the importance of keeping your feet healthy. All bandaged up I am content.

Later, we all drift off at different times. First, Shannon is assisted home by sexy Erlend. Jen is working her femine charms on to the equally sexy Svein, Claire is staring everywhere and I'm asleep. Kevin and Rich have departed at various times during the evening also. I decide it's best I go home forgetting, although the island is small we live down the other end.....

MORNING! Exchange of stories.

1)Kevin is walking home and is stunned by a gurgling shadow figure coming from the beach. It's an awakening Richard whom had passed out several hours earlier.

2)Shannon was assisted far enough home to bump into Charlotte who is staying at a different hotel and thinks she has done her job. She hasn't as Shannon proceeds to wander off and around for a short time after.

3)I "go" home and get confused where our inn is. It's dark, late and I'm drunk. "Ah man, I have to go all the way back? Are you serious? Maybe I'll sleep on the beach?" Luckily, Jen and Svein and Claire waltz up and lead me to my room.

Once everyone has fully risen and found some grub to shove down their pie holes, all injuries discovered and back story shared we read a section in the lonely planet. One particular section talking about safety on the Gillies, in brief; be careful, there has been numerous rapes and attacks from the locals. NB Stay in groups! This is the kinda stuff you should be reading BEFORE the adventure!