Hence, my quest for mushrooms began. Rain poured on and off as we strolled around the island's wet, sandy pathway in the warmth of the air. The road was full of various board signs advertising the magic of the fungi.
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| To the moon and back! |
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| My latte mushroom cocktail |
At a drinks stall, I asked the seller for directions as to how the banana leaf of handpicked mushrooms was to be taken, and she, in return, showed me the drinks fridge:
"Take one, Coca-Cola? Juice?"
I opted for the latte mix. She poured the can of coffee into a blender, topped it up with the magic goodies, plugged the machine in for the mixture, and handed it back to me in a plastic cup with a straw. 100,000 rupiah was the price, roughly ten dollars.
I walked around happily with my special drink, 'mushy cocktail' as I called it, while Lora looked for a place to settle in. We found a spot on the high bed of the open-air hut, cushioned by colourful fabrics, to lay ourselves comfortably. I watched the scenery of the sea, the early evening fall and the island of Lombok opposite while sipping half my mushy drink.
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| The view from the hut |
We settled into the tranquillity of the scenery and watched the world go by as I drank half the mushroom-tasting cafe latte through the straw. Frankly, did not quite dare drink it all. We sat there for ages while Lora investigated my state of being too often by asking:
"Are you feeling it yet?"
"Honest Lora," I would answer, "No. Nada de nada."
In other words, Nothing. But the calmness in the air was so relaxing that no substitute was necessary to get me high. Besides, who would I laugh with if my comic sense of humour arose and I wanted to giggle as the outcome of taking mushrooms led to? Lora and I were amused often enough at what we said!
I wanted more to report, such as how the roots of the trees nearby began coming alive in mysterious ways or the waves of the sea turning into some sort of creature. Still, I decided to leave that experience aside as the one I had trying chocolate mushrooms in Ibiza, which was a fun memory not to be repeated on this occasion.
The night fell, and we walked to the Beach Bar restaurant. We picked the fresh fish lying on ice carriers, asked them to be grilled over a real fire, and served at our table.
One last stop was with our laptops in hand, on the loungy armchairs of Scallywags hotel, lying by the road, watching the traffic pass by and engaging in conversation with the Swiss explorer at one table and the Spanish traveller who had been throughout India and was continuing on her journey to Vietnam, before retiring to bed.
Our last day in Gili was partially sunny. However, due to the earthquake happening on the Western side of Indonesia, the speed boats were cancelled as the crossing, which happens to be one of deepest of seas, combined with the aftershocks, must have turned the waters turbulent with estimated 10-meter-high waves. There was another way of getting back to Bali on a small yellow speed boat to Lombok, a taxi ride of two hours through the island and a small plane ride, which would have totalled a seven-hour journey as opposed to the one-hour fifty-minute boat ride it took us to get there. The agent reassured us of a speed boat traversing the following morning at 11.30am.
The weather was good, and we lounged on the beach beds, where we ate a Mie Goreng lunch (Indonesian noodle dish), followed by a long walk around the island now that the rain had stopped.
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| A branch of Lost Soles! |
The walk by the sea took two and a half hours, during which we enjoyed the calm of the sea and the emptiness of the beaches we trespassed, each at her own pace.
We returned before nightfall for a bite at Scallywags, which could have been better than the previous chef had left. At 8 pm, we were followed by an hour and a half of massage by the best hands a masseuse could possess.
Another last day approached, and we were informed that the waves had not calmed and the particular boat was not moving that day either. So, we decided to take the long route and drive through Lombok Island.
I just got home to London last night via a night stop in Dubai and am somewhat shattered. The jet lag woke me up at 5:50am this morning, and it has been a long working day. But before I left, a saying was engraved onto a piece of wood at the end of our walk that day; it simply read...
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| Happiness is Within |
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