8 - 12. November 2025

After the intensity of Ubud with its storms, the deep jungle, and some of the most lush and abundant weeks we’ve ever experienced, we continued on to one of Lombok’s beautiful islands; Gili Air!

“Gili” means small island, and “Air” doesn’t mean air, but water. The island got its name from the freshwater that lies beneath it. A rare and important source in a place otherwise surrounded by saltwater. And as we continue to connect with the energies, we do like to believe this is why the island itself is so self-contained, and deeply connected to its natural recourses.

The journey out felt good. This time we chose a reliable speedboat company: Eka Jaya! They actually cancels departures if the weather is too rough. That alone felt reassuring after hearing a few too many stories about dangerous speedboat accidents in Bali. After a long taxi ride from Ubud and the usual chaos of a busy harbor, we finally left the mainland behind and moved smoothly across the water. As Gili Air came closer, the sea shifted into lighter blues, almost transparent near the shore. We were picked up by a smaller boat and brought into the island’s harbor.

Waiting for us on land were rows of horse carts, beautifully decorated with colorful tassels and ribbons! On Gili Air there are no cars or motorbikes. The island has chosen to stay car-free to protect both the environment and the slow rhythm of life. Instead, people move by foot, bicycle, or horse. You hear hooves on sand, the soft ringing of bicycle bells. This is not a party island, and is very peaceful and romantic island.

We stayed just a few meters from the harbor, in a small bungalow facing a pool where divers trained daily for their certifications. Watching them became part of our routine — the slow practice, the calm focus before heading out into the ocean.

Right outside was the island’s main street, and it had a charm of its own. Horses passing by, bikes, small cafés and shops lining the sandy paths. There were more tourists than we had been used to lately, even in Ubud, but it still felt warm and easy. Lively, but not overwhelming.

There were beautiful little shops with local crafts, surf stores, cozy coffee spots, and warungs serving simple, good food. If you wandered just a bit away from the main street, you could still find the smaller, more local places that was much cheaper.

The next day we rented bicycles, and for two full days we just explored the island that way. Hannes, with all his energy led the way back and forth, through small residential areas, past bungalows and beach bars, cows, stray cats and colorful Bougainvillea along narrow sandy paths. We didn’t have anything more important to do that to just ride around. It was just perfect. The kids got so tired and we were happy.

On the third day, we went snorkeling.

It was the first time for the kids and me. Bjarne had done it before, but for us it was completely new. The place we stayed also arranged snorkeling trips, and we decided to go on a private tour. We were given masks, fins, and life vests, and one of the guides brought an underwater camera.

There was a mix of excitement and nervousness in the boat.

The first jump into the water felt big. But the moment we put our faces under the surface, everything changed.

It was… overwhelming.

Coral reefs in colors we didn’t even know existed. Deep reds, bright oranges, soft purples, electric blues. Fish moving gently around us, close enough to feel part of the same space. Bjarne dove down to get closer, while I stayed near the surface with the kids.

There is something very special about being together like this under water. We can’t talk, we can’t move around freely the way we usually do. We just float, swim, and observe. It creates a kind of quiet presence — being there as observers, as admirers, sharing the experience without words.

I remember the first moment we looked at each other under the surface. Just eye contact through the masks, both of us completely amazed. We saw many turtles that day, further down below us, moving slowly across the reef. Some came closer, but they were mostly absorbed in their own world.

The most special encounter was with the one female turtle.

She came close to us, calm and steady, completely unbothered by our presence. We were allowed to gently touch her shell before she slowly moved away, gliding back down toward the coral to feed. Sea turtles have lived in these waters for millions of years. They move slowly, but with such certainty. Seeing her up close felt almost unreal — like meeting something ancient, something that belongs fully to that world.

Watching the kids experience all of this for the first time — the silence, the colors, the wonder — was something I’ll never forget. I felt so moved seeing their joy.

We stopped briefly on Gili Meno, the quietest of the three islands. It felt almost untouched compared to Gili Air — fewer people, softer atmosphere, long empty beaches. We bought smoothies for our guides and wandered a bit. At a small conservation center, we saw baby turtles being cared for before being released into the ocean. Tiny, fragile, and somehow already carrying the instinct of a long journey ahead.

We also bought some handmade jewelry — or at least, we chose to believe the story behind them. Beautiful, either way.

The ocean gave us so much that day. But it also showed us something else.

In some areas, the coral was damaged. Broken. Faded. A reminder of how fragile these ecosystems are — affected by rising sea temperatures, pollution, and human activity. It stayed with us. Traveling like this, you don’t only see the beauty. You also see what’s at risk. Also at the beaches. We picked so much trash we could fill the bag full in just five meters. It actually was so bad we didn’t wanted to spend any time on the beach when we where there.

We carry that with us too.

We’re so grateful we got to experience Gili Air, anyway. The bike rides and the snorkeling was unforgettable.

Hannes had been complaining about ear pain for a few days, and it suddenly got much worse a.fter the snorkeling trip. It turned out to be a pretty bad ear infection. The next day we left early for Lombok, heading to Kuta in a small private boat. And here we got good help.

But that’s for the next chapter.

Gili Air

Ubud, part 2