Hello Again, Bali

Three Rocks: Gili Mimpang, Gili Tepekong, and Gili Biaha

I do like coming back to a place. And this time it’s making me think some more about what happens after my trip to New Zealand. Before I left London, I had the outline of a plan to circle the world, heading east (with perhaps the odd zigzag) all the way back home again. But of course my outline of a plan was made before I had any idea about this kind of travelling. Or what it might cost. But perhaps more significantly, this outline of a plan was made before I became a diver.

I found out I was a diver this morning. My forever friend from Byron Bay and I took a boat out to the Blue Lagoon to go snorkelling. And, as we were getting ready to get into the water, the boatman asked me if I was a diver. I’m assuming it was because I’d brought along my own snorkel and mask, which are the only bits of diving equipment I own (although please, dear God, let me be in a position to one day have the lot). Or perhaps there are some other diver identification clues that I haven’t tuned into yet. But whatever the reason, I didn’t even think twice when I answered. Yes, I’m a diver.

Although snorkelling, and not diving, today was lovely. The waters were clear, despite the big rains yesterday afternoon, and it was nice to pop up in between snorkels to have a chat and a gush about what we were seeing. We saw three moray eels, each a different size and colour. I’ve never seen black and white banded ones like that. And two beautiful octopi that rose from their resting place in perfect synchronicity, changed colour, and swam off. There were neon parrotfish and huge triggers; titan and clown. And bizarre-looking unicorn fish. We even saw a mantis shrimp, which create some excitement when I’ve seen them on dives. But this time I was told how delicious it looked. Sadly, the amount of plastic in the water was impossible to ignore. So we collected what we could and, Nemo, our boatman, appreciated our efforts.

So, yes, I’m a diver. And it’s an expensive hobby to have. But the truth is, on this side of the world it is, albeit relatively, ridiculously cheap. Who needs a massage when you can dive and isn’t nasi campur in a local warung the best food in the world? I even think I could do without coffee if push came to shove. And, as I said, I do like coming back to a place. Indonesia might be the place. Or maybe it’s Asia? I’m becoming all too aware that I’m only scratching the surface.

So this is me thinking out loud. When I leave for New Zealand on March the 1st, I will have been away from home for just a week shy of 6 months. It’s hard for me to fathom that I will be at the half-way mark of this trip. Because, the way I feel now, I don’t ever want it to end. Perhaps the thought of heading east around to the Americas marks too big a departure. Today, it’s not one I’m ready to accept.

Tomorrow morning, my forever friend and I might take another boatride out to Gili Tepekong for more snorkelling fun. Although I’ll have to do better with the rear end sunscreen this time. And then, in the afternoon, we’re heading just 40km north to stay a few nights in the coastal town of Amed. Where diving and snorkelling opportunities abound.