By the next morning, we'd already decided that we'd seen all of Kuta that we cared to see, and were up and out to catch the first taxi we could find to Sanur for a boat to Nusa Lembongan, where we hoped to find our white sand beach.
We arrived at the pier in Sanur five minutes before the next boat to the islands and quickly bought our tickets and walked over to the boat, which was anchored about 20 feet from shore. Our boat was unlike any I'd ever seen before. An enclosed seating area with space for approximately 30 people, covered by a flat roof and a stern with just enough space for the driver and a coil of heavy rope for the anchor, made up the center of the boat. On either side, the boat had four "arms," that curved down from the center of the boat and met the water where they were connected on each side by a long bamboo pole, to keep the boat upright in the case of a rocky sea.
We rode out to the island, Steven on the roof enjoying the view and the beating rays of the sun, me underneath, hands gripping the side of the boat, eyes fixed on the horizon trying to keep the contents of my stomach inside where they belonged. When we anchored at the island, we again rolled up our pants and walked through the water to reach dry land.
Having selected the cheapest guesthouse on the island, Steven and I deflected numerous offers to see other places and latched onto the first man to agree to show us to our desired digs. We walked for awhile along a sea wall that dropped down to a few feet of rocky sand that was the beach. Following our self appointed guide, we turned in away from the sea and began walking through what appeared to be people's back yards. It was there we caught our first glance of the seaweed harvest that is the driving force behind the island's economy.
Great big blue tarps were spread out on the ground covered with seaweed of various colors. A man with a rake stood in the middle of it, spreading it thinner so that it would dry faster in the sun. I stood for a minute marveling at the sight, loving these moments when I get to see something I've never seen before. We walked on through the yard and back out towards to shore, this time walking along in the sand.
Nusa Lembongan actually has a beach, but to our disappointment, the beach was broken up every few steps a thick rope leading from one of the line of boats anchored about five feet into the water, running from the boat to an anchor in the seawall. As we walked, we had to be cautious when stepping over the ropes, which rose and fell with the movement of the boat on the tide. Our visions of relaxing unbroken white sandy beach crumbled into the reality of life on a fishing island.
We finally reached our hotel after an arduous 15 minute walk in the sand with heavy packs and were quoted a price for a beach front room (minus the beach) about $10 more than we'd expected to pay. Knowing that our price range sat a little further off the beach, we asked to see a room in the back and were led through a relatively attractive courtyard with two story "huts" on one side and a row of cement block rooms on the other. The second room we were shown was $6 and sufficiently met our needs as a place to sleep, so we said we'd take it and dumped our stuff on the beds. Ever the optimists, we changed into our bathing suits before heading back out to explore the island.
We read that there was a hiking trail from a beach near the pier to a more popular beach a little ways south. Having seen the view from the beach, we decided to walk along the road. Nusa Lembongan, like Kuta was lined with temples, or so I thought. After walking a ways, we discovered that some of the structures we thought were temples, were actually peoples homes. In Bali, families traditionally live, not in houses, but in family compounds. Each compound is encircled by an ornately carved wall, with an entrance way very much like that of a temple. Inside the compound are numerous open air structures, merely roofs held up by four pillars rising from a central platform, used for the various purposes one would use rooms in a house, sleeping, cooking, eating, etc. Some of the structures are built out from the wall and when in need of privacy, families just roll down bamboo shades on the other three sides to block themselves from view.
We walked along the street, each compound hidden behind the surrounding walls, but revealing themselves through the elevated shrines used by the Hindu gods when they returned to earth - miniature versions of open air alters on ornate stone pillars, always garnished with the days offering of flowers and rice. We came out on a small cove where a family was cleaning their nets in the water and saw a path leading up into the trees. We followed the path up the hillside and found ourselves hiking through dense green underbrush surrounded by palms with a beautiful view of the islands coast through breaks in the trees.
The forest path led out onto an attractive stone walkway that led along the coast where beautifully designed resorts with pools of bright blue water built out to the edge of their property splashed water on the walkway. Down below the path, cafes with thatch umbrellas shading diners at carved wooden tables, gave us a view of what life would be like if we could afford to spend $100 a night.
As we walked along, Steven looked up into a tree and saw the largest spider either of us had ever seen. It was enormous, at least the size of my hand, if not bigger. Steven marveled at it for a while, taking a few pictures before walking on. Still amazed at its size, I cautioned Steven to watch where he was walking, not wanting him to walk face first into one of its friends. We both paused to look out at the ocean and as we did, we saw that the spider was more popular than I'd imagined. Beginning from a branch not far from where we stood, continuing down to the far branches of trees growing up from the beach, were hundreds if not thousands of enormous scary looking spiders. If it weren't for the beautiful surroundings, it would have been something out of a horror flick.
Leaving the spiders behind, we continued on the path, which led back into the forest. It wound along the coast before opening up on a little jetty which formed the wall of a beautiful hidden cove. Having restrained himself from the ocean for far longer than he usually does when so close to a beach, Steven promptly stripped down to his suit and jumped off the rock into the water 8 feet below.
While Steven swam, I tried to calculate how I would get to the other side with all of our stuff. Watching him in the cool water, I decided that we'd have to figure out our next move together, and after securing our things on a rock in the cove, I joined him in the water.
We spent about an hour enjoying the cool clear water and the privacy of the cove, before continuing our search for the beach.
Leaving the resorts behind, we turned another corner and were again in the forest. We came out onto another jetty, jutting straight out into the sea, much higher than the first with views of small sandy beaches on each side. The beach behind us to the north was devoid of all commercial enterprise, only mangrove and palm trees lining the shore. The beach ahead of us, our ultimate lunch destination, was lined with restaurants and a few bungalow style guest houses fronting another cove filled with fishing boats. The portion of the beach immediately below us was black volcanic sand for about 20 feet before merging with the lighter "sand-colored" sand of the rest of the beach.
We followed the path to where it ended at an unfinished doorway of a guesthouse currently under construction. We walked through the doorway and down the unfinished steps to the beach. We spent the rest of afternoon eating lunch and lounging in the sand on my new sarongs. It wasn't quite the beach we'd pictured, but it was a beach and we were going to lie on it.
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