Our return to the Mainland of Lombok began with slight disappointment….

We hurried from the paradise of the Gili Islands with the idea of making the most of our time and spending a week in Kilimantan (Indonesian Borneo). We had bought a ticket from a guy who was covering all our return transport from Gili with an open ticket allowing us to stop over in Lombok for as long as we liked, and then included an additional bus to the boat port of Lombok, a 5 hour boat crossing back to Padangbai, Bali, and then a final bus to Denpasar, the capital and transport hub of Bali.

We planned to maximize his offer by doing a brief stopover in Lombok and then get his boat and bus to Denpasar to get the boat he told us would take just 10 hours to Borneo. A place we were both excited at seeing. Orangutans and cheap accommodation the main attractions!

However, in reality, the boat would take 4 days. Taking up most of the time we budgeted for the entire trip! He lied… What a p****

So time to come up with a Plan B….

We began with spending a few nights in Sengiggi, which was about an hour's journey from the boat port we exited when returning from the Gili's. After an attempt at being conned by a man with a horse, we found our bus and reached Sengiggi, the ghost town of Sengiggi.

Bed time seemed to be 9pm and the shops shut for their siestas and forgot to re-open in the afternoons. The average age of the locals was about 55. Reminded me a little of Bexhill!

The town was mainly built either side of a main road which stretched for a mile or so. With a few nice places to eat and a couple of decent bars either side.

Behind the main road was Sengiggi beach, a beach, "for local people, we'll have no trouble here…"

The mixture of my tattoos and Katie's two biggest assists created a cocktail of strange and unique "westerness" which the locals couldn't take their eyes of off! We were literally stared at by all the local turning heads. Children and adults stared like they were watching two Avatars walking along 'their' beach. A really peculiar experience of being the minority, but also the type of experience in which we should be learning something from along the length of our travels.

The experience, in huge comparison to Bali was very…. Muslim. Even when in the water, the ladies were covered from head to toe in their specially designed swim wear. We felt like we were almost intruding, but never felt unwelcome or unsafe, just genuine interest and curiosity in all the local's eyes.

Our room seemed to be Mozzie Central, so after moving room( three times), we decided our best option was to shut the door tightly behind us and sleep in the forever developing and blinding clouds of the anti-mozzie smoke being developed by the anti-mozzie candles we had put in our room. Good for the lungs, I'd say….

Katie woke up with an eye infection…. Good for her.

The hostel room included a "free local crack head,' who's job was basically to sit on your porch when you are trying to read and relax and compliment your guitar playing skills and demonstrate the use of all the drugs he enjoys using. The variety on show was a real eye opener. Ironically, the more he used the more time he spent with his eyes closed. And head rolling. Think he may have let out a couple of farts as well.

The highs and lows….

We spent a really fun evening in the local "Happy Bar," watching the local band "The Crack Band," sing, cover and sometimes destroy Western classics. But fun had by all. I ate Pizza and Katie had her first taste of decent wine for over 3 weeks.

There is something hilarious in hearing the locals sing Western songs, In English, with English lyrics, but with their accent. It is almost like watching a pirate DVD with those terrible subtitles which display words which sound similar to what the actors are saying, but the little mistakes totally change the meaning of the line.

Annoying, but entertaining all the same.

It beats that horrible Canadian girl who sang with that Britney style wobble and cuddled her guitar in the Gili Islands.

We found a little gem of a local restaurant which served us some really awesome and really cheap food. It underlined our opinion that the little local places are SOOOO much better than the "Ritz I'm up my own arse Ivy" style places deigned for the tourists. We had a very touching encounter with a blind man offering shiatsu massages in return for a few quid. He definitely had more manners than the tourists we have met, and seemed to have more vision and wisdom than all of us. Katie spent some time talking with him and getting to know him, as others just looked in disgust. We gave him a few rupiah so he could get his daughter, his chubby little fatty umpa lumpa daughter, an ice cream.

I thought, 'that's just what she needs.'

Both of us had a down day on our final day in Sengiggi. We were surrounded by people trying to sell us some awesome but very expensive trips which were way over our budget. (Over 5 quid). One in particular was a trip to the Komodo Islands to see the 'dragons' in their local habitat. A once in a lifetime experience but would have met booking the next flight back to London, so we opted out. We always seem to be opting out so we can eat that day. I LOVE eating though.

So we went online and found a great little boutique hotel in Sayang Countryside, just outside of Mataram (Capital City). It was located at the foot of Mount Rinjani,one of the biggest Volcano in Indonesia. The hotel was in the middle of "Butt f*** nowhere," ( a charming phrase learnt recently from our ozzie mate from the Gili;s,) but would serve as a luxury (hot water) retreat for a couple of nights.

Next stop Mataram…..

Peace and flip flops

Nic and Katie xxx

(I've just unwrapped a sweet, put the rubbish in my mouth and threw the sweet, (the last one) in the bin. Probably explained by the fact I've written this blog twice after the awesome 1992 computer I am using decided to crash…)