A day of being harassed by hawkers in Kuta Lombok…
The beaches in the South of Lombok are the highlight of Lombok if not Indonesia the travel blogs kept telling me. Forget Bali- Bali is done, finished, old news. Lombok is the new Bali. As a beachaholic and ocean aficionado I was keen to check the beaches of Lombok out.
Plus after an intense week of voyaging across the Flores Sea (read about that adventure here), followed by diving in the Komodos (read about that here), I was desperately in need of some downtime. However, my day didn’t exactly go as planned…
Kuta itself is nothing more than a few streets of cafes (mainly selling overpriced cappuccinos) and surf shops. I strolled down to the beach from my hostel, soaking up the scenery. Colourful fishing boats were scattered amongst the golden sand. A powder blue sky and azure sea provided the backdrop. A few hundred metres further I reached a long stretch of powdery sand. Now we’re talking…
I inhaled the fresh ocean air and gazed out over the horizon. Ah, paradise. A little too sunny for me though so breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted six sunbeds with umbrellas. Thank god- shade!
My bum cheek had barely grazed the plastic when a shadowy figure appeared over me “You pay” he instructed. “Err, how much?” I asked squinting up at him in the bright sunlight. Not that I was in any state to argue – I’d rapidly turn into a crisp if I spent any more time in the midday sun. “50,000 for the day” (about £2.50 – guess I could manage that). I rifled through my bag and produced the goods then took out my book and stretched out preparing to enjoy a peaceful read.
Alas, it wasn’t to be. Shortly after I’d laid down, a woman waddles up and plonks herself down next to me, spreading out a rainbow of sarongs. I tried to explain that I’d already bought two on Gili Air and really didn’t need any more, but that just seemed to encourage her.
Hmm surely my 50 rupiah sunbed fee includes peace and quiet? Where’s the sunbed guy now? Why isn’t he telling her to bugger off!
After a few polite smiles. I pointedly attempted to read my book averting eye contact, but that didn’t put her off- clearly being subtle wasn’t going to work. Eventually, she trotted off to the next victim. Phew. But….it wasn’t long until another took her place. And then another. And another…
I felt rude telling these sellers where to go straight off the bat. But this meant I heard stories of husbands with injuries “my husband he can’t catch fish” children who need hospital treatment… you name it. Eventually I bought a few bits and bobs to ease my conscience such as a bracelet to add to the two others I had already acquired earlier on my trip and a coconut to keep hydrated. Hopefully this will stave off the wolves and keep them at bay I thought. Hmph. Wishful thinking.
Around every ten minutes or so another hawker landed up. Bracelets. Sarongs. Coconuts. T-shirts. Being an empathetic sort, at first I did feel kind of bad for them- after all they’re just earning a living, it’s not like there’s a lot of opportunity here. But after a while my patience started to run thin.
The kids were the most aggressive in their selling technique. After saying no to yet another bracelet (bear in mind I’d already bought one that day and they all look the bloody same), they started to get quite rude – one even had the audacity to wave their bony little fist at me… Little shit.
Before long, I was looking forward to escaping the beautiful beach and reading by my hostel pool without being harrassed.
It’s a shame as when travelling I like to interact with the locals, and have more of a local experience where possible, but here they seem to see me as nothing more than a walking ATM….
Guess I’ll go for that overpriced cappuccino- at least I can enjoy it in peace.
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