Within minutes of leaving Lombok’s airport behind, it becomes apparent why this southern Indonesian island’s reputation as the “un-Bali” is well deserved. Instead of Bali’s high-octane, traffic-clogged thoroughfares, our taxi meanders along two-lane byways flanked by paddy fields whose green seems to burst out at you. We spot the occasional conical straw hat bobbing in the distance as a farmer wades across the vista.
“How do you like the Lombok Ferrari?” our taxi driver jokes, as he toots his horn at an oncoming horse and carriage.
Only a half-hour flight from the Hindu enclave of Bali, Lombok is a Muslim-majority island. Instead of the swirls of incense smoke and offerings of flowers and food that dot the typical Balinese village, it is a succession of mosques that thread the landscape in Lombok. “We have 1,000 mosques on the island,” our chatty driver beams. The mosques we pass look newly built. Many are fronted with shiny white bathroom tiles.
Little is known about Lombok prior to the 17th century except that it was settled by a group of animist farmers called Sasaks, who migrated south from either Burma or northwest India. The Sasaks converted to Islam between the late 16th and 17th centuries, but were soon after conquered by the Hindu Balinese kingdom of Gelgel.
As a result, many of the island’s Muslims adhere to a syncretic mix of Islamic, Hindu-Buddhist, and animist beliefs, known as Wektu Telu. The mosque building that is so in evidence as we drive towards the hotel, however, is indicative of the rise of a more strict, purist form of Islam. Nonetheless, there are other signs of the island’s historic pluralism. We pass Chinese graveyards filled with lacquered Taoist deities and a mechanics’ shop named Ramayana.
Our resort is set directly on the island’s western sea front, a few minutes drive from the main tourist drag of Senggigi. It is a low-key, uncluttered area where the chief entertainment is the molten sky, as the sun sets behind Bali’s volcanic, Mt Agung. We take in our first sunset while sipping strawberry basil mojitos, sprawled besides the resort’s infinity pool, the flaming horizon punctuated by the hulking silhouette of the volcano.
The next day we take a tour of Sasak villages in the southern part of the island. Distances are long and we spend almost four hours in total on the road, which makes for a tiring day. But the tour includes a stop at Kuta beach, which is as different from its namesake in Bali, as peace from chaos.
In Kuta Bali, the waves are high and the view typically includes Australian surfers. In Kuta Lombok, the sand is white, the turquoise water is shallow, and the views are unblemished. I feel a tad scantily dressed in my one-piece swimming costume, though. The handful of other women on the beach are decked out in ankle-length robes and hijabs.
The real beach action begins the next day as we head to the Gilis, a clutch of three islands surrounded by some of the best dive sites and snorkeling reefs in the area. We start off at Gili Meno, a half-an-hour boat ride away from Lombok. We find an empty stretch of beach where we get busy pulling on masks and flippers.
The next hour involves skimming over deep coral reefs. The world goes quiet, but my mind switches on in technicolour. I spot bright yellow fish and lime green ones. It is a dream-like experience, wet and lapping and vivid.
Later, we head to Gili Trawangan, the most developed of the islands, for lunch. It’s heaving with day-trippers from Bali and Lombok. Welcome to the “party island” a sign proclaims. As we relax on the beach, we’re handed a flyer advertising an all-night, “moon” party at one of Trawangan’s sea-front bars. “If the music is too loud, then you are too old,” it says. We realize it's time to head back.
The boat trip back to Lombok is choppy. We are sprayed with great waves of ocean water and the kids are frightened. Through sea salt-stung eyes I look over at the ferryman, who is squatting phlegmatically by the rear, smoking a cigarette, right next to the gasoline tank. My nerves are shot. Luckily, it’s nothing that a dinner of prawn sambal and strawberry basil mojitos can’t fix.
The next day its back to the airport, our short trip over too soon. But we know that we’ll be sure to return. For we have left one of the island’s most exciting adventures to a future trip. Gunung Rinjani, Indonesia’s second highest volcano at 3726 meters, presides over the north of Lombok and is an unforgettable 3-day trek for climbing enthusiasts. We will just have to spend the interim time, hitting up the gym – it’s not a climb for the faint of heart or flaccid of muscle.
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