Thanksgiving and Reef Kisses: Kuta Style

Kuta is a surfing town in southern Lombok, Indonesia. Some people describe it as the “old Bali”. It’s developing rapidly. I can imagine that even two years from now it will be completely different. But for now, it’s perfect, in my opinion. Inexpensive, friendly, most establishments are still owned by locals, the roads are paved but wind through villages, it’s quiet but if you want a party it’s not hard to find one. I didn’t imagine I’d spend almost 20 days here but now, looking back, I could’ve stayed even longer if my visa allowed. Kuta gave me some routine I’d been missing, a taste of home over thanksgiving and once again, amazing people to share it with. I really felt like I was LIVING in Kuta, not just visiting. My days looked like this. 

Morning: Surf

Afternoon: Lunch with friends followed by a nap or reading my book by the pool at my favorite hostel in Indonesia: Lost Inn Kuta

Late afternoon: Work on my website (check out my Solo Travel FAQ page and Travel Coaching Page) 

Evening: A trip to our sunset spot (where we were ambushed by monkeys) and dinner in town followed by card games or the occasional live music

It felt so good to work on something physical and actually see progression. I’ve surfed before, in South Africa, Hawaii and Sri Lanka but it turns out surfing is NOT like riding a bike for us Minnesotans and I needed a refresher in Kuta. I received daily lessons from Black Finn Surf School and learned more than I ever have before. I quickly went from an 8’ foam board to a 7’6” hard board by the end of my time in Kuta. I started on small waves on the beach and finished with waves taller than me that required a boat to get to. I fell a million times more than I got up. I finished my lessons covered in bruises and scratches from the reef (“reef kisses”) but loved every minute of this sport. There’s something magical in catching a wave, feeling its power push you over sea life and beautiful coral in fluorescent blue water. I can see why surfing is addictive for so many people. There’s also something special about the surfing community. A lot of time is spent waiting for the perfect wave and I met so many lovely people floating on our boards. Some friends from my hostel were pretty advanced surfers and I loved going to their hidden surf spots that forced us to get off the main roads. I’d watch them from the beach and dream of getting waves like they do someday. 

I wasn’t the only one who stayed in Kuta this long. My Swiss bestie Alix decided to stay up until her flight to Chile. We met an incredible couple from Australia, Esther and Hugh, and gained another American, Adrian. Esther and Hugh have been traveling the world together for the past six months, finishing their trip in Indonesia before they head back to Sydney for Christmas. Adrian is from Cali and is traveling around SE Asia before he starts his big boy job back home. I spent every day with these people, exploring the area or just staying back at the hostel.

There are some costs that come with long term travel, besides the obvious monetary costs. One cost is missing holidays. I’ve missed engagements, weddings, thanksgivings, Christmas’, New Years;, birthdays and more. Sometimes the guilt and homesickness that comes with being away from my friends and family on these special days makes me want to quit traveling all together. Loneliness usually follows too. Phone calls home do help, but it’s not the same as being able to hug my sister on her 21st birthday. 

With thanksgiving on the horizon I tried not to think of it much. I knew there wouldn’t be any talk of thanksgiving here in Indonesia so I thought I’d just pretend the day doesn’t exist. The 14 hour time difference helps too. I had planned on shielding it all out (which never goes well) until Adrian asked me if I’d be interested in doing something for thanksgiving with him. He said he knows he’ll be missing home and assumed I would be too. Our amazing hostel manager, Tris, overheard our conversation and had the brilliant idea of hosting an “International Thanksgiving”. We had over 11 nationalities staying at our hostel. Tris, Adrian and I spread the word and we hosted one of the best thanksgivings I’ll have in my life. Each person made a dish from their home country. We all cooked together in the hostel kitchen and enjoyed a FEAST. Adrian’s family has a tradition that we recreated where everyone anonymously writes down what they’re thankful for, these little notes are gathered and then passed around and shared after dinner. We finished the meal with my Aunt Marsha’s famous grape salad as dessert and it was a hit. 

Here are a few things backpackers are thankful for:

“Being able to see the world”

“Traveling with my soulmate” 

“Catching my first wave”

”Making friends so easily in far away places”

”The backpacking community”

”Learning about so different cultures”

”Indonesian hospitality” 

“Feeling at home” 

After a 2 million Indonesian Rupiah bill from Lost Inn Kuta it was time to leave. I dropped Alix off at the airport, another teary eyed goodbye. We realized we have been traveling together for over a month. Alix is full of energy and it’s contagious. She makes strangers laugh and I never feel shy around her. I’ll miss the inside jokes and the constant singing and dancing while we ride our shared scooter around Kuta. I wished her the best on her South America adventure. 

If you’ve read this far I’ll share a little passage from my journal: 

Sitting on this dingy couch covered in stains from the dead flowers that fell from a tree overhead at a hostel somewhere down a dirt road in Indonesia. I just said goodbye to another traveler. He goes to Thailand, my route goes south. Some of us don’t know where we’ll be next but we always end with “until our paths cross again”. Even though we know this may never happen again in our lifetime. You know that my sister loves that Elvis song we heard in a reggae bar and held my hand when I told you how much I miss her. I know about that time you got caught trespassing in a corn field with your friends at 14 in the UK. You remind me to wear sunscreen because you know how much I hate the feeling of it on my skin. I know your grandma likes to get dressed up for afternoon tea in France and that sometimes you relisten to your ex girlfriend's voice notes when you miss home. We talked about our worst nightmares as kids and what our lives would look like if we weren’t here. We’ve wandered deep into unknown places. Full heartedly relying and trusting each other, even if we’re still strangers. “I’m gonna try to swim out to the reef to catch those waves, if I don’t make it my phone password is 0219, my best friend’s birthday, call my brother first”. We’ve shared beers, bandaids and socks when someone forgot to do their laundry again. I subconsciously collect their lighters and sayings. Our lives couldn't be more different. You, from a little town outside of Geneva where your university was paid for by your government and you were on the rowing team. Me, from a river town south of Saint Paul. My neighbors have snow blowers and shotguns to hunt whitetails. Yours sip espresso in a cafe along a cobblestone street. But here? We’re both new to this place and nothing from our “befores” matter. We try on love because why not? We’re raw and are happily surprised when you laughed just as hard as I did when the man herding cattle across the highway with a stick blew us a kiss. In the moment of silence in our conversations, at the same time, we make a remark about how beautiful the sunset is tonight behind the rolling hills scattered with bamboo huts that lead to the sea like a goddamn postcard. We remind each other how lucky we are and that it’s okay to complain sometimes but not for too long. I’ll listen. We wonder why everyone in the world isn’t doing what we’re doing and wish we could give this experience to others. We don’t talk about how free we are but you can hear it in our voices as we “woohoo” in our own dialects while we run down a hidden beach. Our dirty shoes, phones and wallets are left behind after a morning of instant coffee, rice and mangos from the street vendor and conversation about who had the worst dance moves the night before on the sand under the stars. We’re not lonely. I think that’s why most people don’t do this. Afraid to be alone. We are the opposite. If I could be anyone in the world who would I be? I’d be me, right now, with you. 

I hope everyone felt gratitude this thanksgiving, no matter what form your day took. 

xx Hannah