Gili Trawangan. ahhh. How nice.
Compared with it's shy and lonely twin, Gili Meno, Trawangan is a rebel. I might suggest that Trawangan adores it's older cousin, Bali, and tries to emulate it in every respect, especially with costs. The 5000rp Mie Goreng on Meno was a whopping 21000rp in an equivalent establishment. Beer were edging on 15,000+, accomodation not cheaper than 30,000. My hotel, a nice "homestay" allowed me to bargain hard and finally settled on 25,-/night.
I eagerly departed from the American girl, who I had discovered was a pathological liar and hated Americans (more than several times I heard her say she was Canadian).
Trawangan's dive culture drove the high prices and reminded me a great deal of Koh Tao in Thailand; dive culture is always an interesting one.
The first day I walked around the island, discovering beautiful hotels and resorts on the western coast, exposed to the sea. Mostly shut down this time of year, though. I wanted to try and dicker a bargain price for a room, but hesitated long enough to find I had walked past. Most of the walk, which lasted for probably 2 hours, my eyes were peeled to the beach, searching for the perfect seashell. Hard to find, that one is.
Later that night I found a local food stall that charged 5000 for Bakso, a noodle and meatball soup. I topped up with Nasi Campur for another 5000 from a lady behind the lean-to off the main drag. Suspicious? No, that's where the locals ate.
I spent Valentines Day relaxing on the beach, finished with a similar set of meals, then an early night. The disco beats of the "huge party" pumped until early morning, but I felt no desire to join in.
The next day began as most in Indonesia. I ate two banana pancakes and drank a coconut shake. the rest of the day, however, was not so hum-drum. A fever set in and I was soon bundled up in my sleeping bag in the midday heat of my room. I tossed and turned all day, my door wide open to let air in. Around 5pm I became very ill. Whatever was in those banana pancakes was not agreeing with me one bit. finally, after a very long night of being ill, I stumbled out into the darkness of 1am. Luckily there was a stall open, surrounded by local kids hanging out smoking. I bought a sprite, desperate for sugar, and a large water. I made my way back to my room and passed out until morning.

Damn food poisoning!

Around 7:30 I was up. Something had initiated a strong desire to move on, so I packed my things, paid my bill, and hurried off to the boat, just catching it in time. I looked like hell, felt worse. Not sure I was ready for the long trip back to Bali...

And long it was. Most minivans are ultra quick - too quick, some might argue. The minivan I hopped in to was not in such a hurry. It was, in fact, one of the slowest bus rides I have ever experienced. The South African travelling with me was just as annoyed. We arrived in Lembar some 3 hours after leaving Bangsal, after several lengthy stops. I ate a quick Bakso, the first food to stay down in 24hours, then boarded the most decrepid looking ferry I've ever seen. It looked half-sunk! I climbed up to the passenger deck to find only ridgid, uncomfortable seats. I picked a good one and planted myself down. An unbelievable 5hours later we arrived in Padangbai. Lombok is only 22-or-so kilometres from Bali! What's the hold up!
I half wanted to stay in Padangbai again, but another feeling urged me onwards. I sought out a minivan bound for Kuta, ended up arguing with several drivers not bound for Kuta (my foul mood was not helping) and finally found one who accepted my 25,000rp cash, up front, no questions asked. No ticket? No problem - just flash your cash.
Back in Kuta I find myself.