After Bali myself and Vic embarked on a journey to Gili T - a hedonistic backpackers' island off the northwest coast of Lombok, Indonesia - during which I had to be carried on and off boats, with the rest of the heavy loads and backpacks, on account of my smashed up left side after falling off a top bunk in a hostel in Bali. The boats on Gili T moor five metres away from the powdery white sand so I was carted over the heads of a few helpful male travellers whilst they waded through the water. I wasn't able to walk to the hostel we'd booked - Gili Castle Backpackers - so I sat on the beach whilst Vic found our hostel and dropped off her bag in order to come back and help me with mine; at that moment the heavens opened and everyone ran for cover and proceeded to stare at me - the soggy, broken heap on the shore - from the safety of nearby bars until an Indonesian bar worker took pity on me and dragged me by my arms through the wet sand to a bar table under an umbrella leaving a long, Jenny-shaped streak on the otherwise perfect sand whilst crowds of people looked on. I'd certainly made an entrance. I quickly sourced a tiny Asian-sized crutch (only one as my left arm wasn't up to supporting any weight) and hobbled to the hostel. How can I describe Gili Castle Backpackers? Well, its dorms surround a courtyard containing a bar and a pool with an attached climbing wall which are both crawling day and night with backpackers from all around the world necking Indonesian Bintang beer and vodka joss shots, its nightly parties bring together hundreds of twenty-something strangers and it has a giant black dildo of unknown origins called Bernard as its mascot; all this is in the shadow of a giant mosque that booms out its deafening call for prayer every couple of hours across the whole island. If I had been searching for the epitome of juxtaposition I would look no further.
Hostel snorkelling trip that turned out to be more of a vodka drinking trip.
Gili Castle Backpacker's as seen from the top of the climbing wall.
THAT mosque. Some would complain about being woken up during the lengthy 4am Quaranic recitations but I say you aren't doing Gili T properly if you're already sleeping by 4am!
Partying with my crutch!
The island's food market....incredible! My favourite was the jack fruit curry.
Island friends.
A hammock in the calm sea at sunset? Yes please!
We spent ten nights having the time of our lives on Gili T!
Rick the Stick from Koh Tao joined in the mayhem - I left him there as the new hostel mascot alongside my crutch!
No cars or motorbikes are allowed on the island so the streets are full of bikes and horse and carts by day and backpackers dancing to Indonesian street performers by night.
Riding wonky tandem bicycles around the island after dark on potholed dust tracks with horse and carts thundering past has got to be some of the best fun I've ever had.
TIME.OF.OUR.LIVES!!!
