Circumnavigating the Island – Gili Air, Indonesia

My first and last full day on Gili Air was pure bliss. I woke up with a plan: to walk the entire perimeter of the island. 

I got up early (island early: 9am) and had a long two hour practice before leaving the bungalow in search of coffee fuel and where my journey would begin. 

I looked at a map of the island and saw one road that wrapped around the entire thing and planned to take that. I started on the sand then walked through the shallow water and soon started to wander further out. The ankle deep, rippling waves seemed to stretch on for as far as I could see and as I squinted way off towards the horizon, I thought I could notice larger waves crashing. I started walking in disbelief, “could the surf really start so far off the sand?”

 I wandered further and further from the beach, still in only ankle deep water, before looking back to realize I had gone at least 200-300 meters! I was seriously far out there and in awe of where I was standing, crystal clear water stretching in every direction now. 

I frolicked out there for quite a while, setting my things precariously on the tiniest rock and the only one spared by the water. I was in paradise. The sun was hot but not aggressive, the water was warm but still refreshing, and I had the whole day to do nothing but adventure. 

Instead of walk the long way back to the sand, I decided to stay out to sea and kept walking parallel to the beach. What I didnt expect was that I would make about 80% of the journey that far out in the ocean. I just walked and walked and walked through the warmest water that met anywhere from my ankles to my hips. There were times I wandered so far out towards the horizon before realizing that I felt unnervingly far from the sand but it really tested my sense of commitment.  More than once or twice I had to venture even further out to follow the sand bank and trust I would have another opportunity to get back to shore, unless I felt like sacrificing my belongings and swimming, which was not on the days agenda. Only one time did I need to actually back track because I saw no other way out as the water began rising past by hips and dangerously close to the small pack on my back. 

There were no fish, there were no sharks (for all my New Jersey people wondering), the only thing to keep an eye out for here are stunning and lethal colonies of midnight black, spikey balls known as sea urchins. There were certainly times when I felt a bit cornered and had to plan my route very accordingly to avoid them. 

And the next three hours went like that. Wading through an array of vibrant shades of blue at my feet and above my head. 

It was a journey that couldn’t be put into words and I won’t spend much longer trying. The pictures at the end don’t do it justice but I’ll let them speak what they can for themselves. 

After about three hours, I started to recognize things. I wasn’t where I had started yet but I had walked there the night before looking for food and knew I was close. I started to feel triumphant and took a moment to remember to look out and not just down. The mountain ranges that backdrop this island are absolutely breathtaking. I gazed out at them and the way the bright sun illuminated each ridge and crevice. I felt like I could see every shade of green and brown on every leaf on every tree on every speck of rich soil. Something started bubbling up from a deep place in my body and I positively burst into tears. And these were not just cute, happy tears streaming down my face, these were deep sobs. And they didn’t stop. I just kept crying harder and I think I went from crying about the view to crying about everything that brought me to that view. Heartache, rage, determination, motivation, love, adventure, longing, searching, pain, passion. A lifetime of breaths, some quick and labored, others settled and soft, that lead me to that view so I could take it in with eyes wide open and not experience a moment of it without full, unwavering gratitude. 

In this moment, I feel so keenly aware of the tiny space of air I occupy on this miniscule pebble in the middle of an unfathomably expansive ocean that wraps around this beautiful and endless planet.  I feel so small and it is the most comforting sensation I have felt. I am just this moment and the next and I can simply be. 

I kept crying so uncontrollably I had to retreat back to the sand because I didn’t think I would be able to spot and avoid the sea urchins through my tear filled eyes. I remember thinking :

“I think the view broke me.”

As I got back to the sand, I saw more outside of myself; the image of a young girl trudging from out at sea back to the sand alone, sweating and probably sunburned, puffy, red eyes and crazy, ocean blown hair. And my tears turned into laughter. Now I looked even crazier I’m sure. 

I collected myself and kept walking. As I always have. 

With gratitude and grace,

sarah