Indonesia: Gilli Trawangan (Day 10, Wednesday, 080509)

This morning, Eric’s off for nitrox certification, but he’s kindly ordered my breakfast, and I, cross-legged in a chair on the “patio,” dine on a triangle of toast with jam and an OJ-papaya smoothie, and contemplate whether I want to get out of bed.

At some point, I wake again, but have no clue as to the time--the light looks the same as it did earlier, something about the proximity to the equator perhaps. I take a stab at late afternoon because of the relative coolness of the day.

It’s off to the Snapper Bungalow--I like to stick with what works, especially after a debacle such as the Pseudo-Tandoori meal--for watermelon juice and fish and chips. I’ve seen the same French family four times on this tiny island, the mom and pop carting their Gallic-lookin’ moppets on bicycle adventures that the little fuckers won’t remember. But at least they’re a picturesque little bunch.

There’s Americans, so I ask them the time--12:30--nice, I haven’t “wasted” the day in bed.

So I proceed to while away the rest of the afternoon on the beach.

Eric and I are off to Scallywag’s again for dinner, and on the way, I’m kindly made the following offer, given with a lascivious leer:

“If you not happy, I’ll make you happy.”

Thanks, dawg.

Dinner (potato salad, quail eggs, tomatoes in with basil vinaigrette, bread):


More dinner (butterfish and baked potato):


A kitty with whom I share dinner:


Note the tail, crooking abruptly at a 90 degree angle. Nearly all the cats here are built this way, tails askew or docked. My guess is that there's no easy way for cats to get on or off the island, and the felines on Trawangan are a genetic consequence of isolation per Darwin's Galapagos finches.