lombok 35mm diaries

Indonesia

1 Aug

may - june 2025

One of the highlights of my year so far was spending 9 days on the beautiful Indonesian island of Lombok. What started as a silly sister’s group chat idea to do a surf camp together quickly expanded into a group of almost 10 of us surfing, eating, learning, laughing for several days before parting ways to our next destinations.

I’ve never done a trip under the premise of getting better at a sport before — this was something new to me. But there was truly something magical about waking up every day with a small mission in mind and an inkling of how you want to improve, of eating every meal knowing you’re fuelling your body for the next intense surf session, or falling into bed in the evening absolutely spent from a full day of activities and being in the sun (the best kind of exhaustion). Most of all, the tiny steps of progress every day felt motivating, thrilling and even somewhat healing. In a span of a week, I went from being deterred from even going out on a surfboard in Sydney if the waves were too big for fear of getting wiped out, to coming to the realisation that getting wiped out was just part of the surfing experience. Yes, it sounds like common sense, but my mind needed to learn that through exposure (and by “exposure” I mean being wiped out multiple times in a row, and learning to come back up to the surface with a smile on your face and a willingness to do it all again!).

Leaving Lombok made my heart ache in a way it hadn’t ached before. Perhaps because the days we spent there felt like they would last forever, settling into the routine we had at our surf camp, having our breakfast at the table together in the morning, going on our daily surf trips and cheering each other on when you saw someone catch a wave, and big group dinners. Watching the sunset from a new spot every evening. The familiarity we built with our surf instructors and the warungs we hung out at and bought fresh coconuts from every day. The vibrant local community we witnessed, not quite tainted by the sales-y gentrification you’d have otherwise seen in places like Bali. Being able to rock up to a local warung like Pink Swing, rent a board for 50k, a sunbed or a beanbag for 100, and get a mie goreng for 35 was truly special. Thinking back, there was something that made us seek out our final sunrise surfs together at Tanjung Aan, made it so hard to tear ourselves away from that beach. And sure enough, we found out less than a month after we left that the entire row of local warungs at Tanjung Aan were to be bulldozed to make way for a luxury resort strip ahead of Lombok’s potential hosting of the F1 in 2026. In July 2025, despite thousands-strong petitions and local furore, it was all officially removed.

I’m caught between coming back here as soon as I can, but also almost wanting to never come back so I can preserve its memory — because in my heart of hearts I know that the Lombok I knew and loved that week is changing forever. And seeing it change at the detriment and erasure of local family businesses, culture and community makes me sad.

So, this post is a love letter to Lombok — here are some of my favourite memories to go along with the photo diaries below:

Our very first afternoons spent at Selong Belanak beach, renting $5 foam boards and spending the rest of the day trying to (unsuccessfully for me at least) catch waves and chatting while watching the sunset turn the mist around the mountains and sea cliffs into a golden haze. Catching my very first proper wave the next day at the corner break, it was an absolute fluke but that was the first moment in Lombok that I felt the unparalleled thrill of riding a wave — and like an addict I wanted to chase it, over and over again.
The multitude of memories associated with BBQ fish — endless BBQ fish dinners at Fish Bones Warung and Cheap Zone, choosing a freshly caught fish (parrotfish, snapper, calamari, you name it) off the side of the road and having it served to us shortly after, barbecued to perfection with unlimited sambal, vegetables and rice on the side — the perfect family meal. Even better, fish barbecued in a rough fire on the beach after a surf session at Ekas inside. Digging into the fish, rice and chilli with bare hands, washing our hands off in the ocean when we were done.
One of the best mornings of my life was surfing at Don Don (Gerupuk) at sunrise. The sky was golden and the sun lit the waves and sea mist from behind so perfectly, I really can’t describe it. It was only the second morning of the surf camp and the waves were way too big for us but the sheer beauty of that morning really blew me away. The gentle peak of Mount Rinjani rising out from beyond the sea cliffs which you could stop and stare at in between sets. Catching the singular proper wave I caught that morning and being on it for long enough to look around and giggle with delight. Simply beautiful.
Tanjung Aan, how can I even describe it. Probably the most special spot of our trip and the location of so many great memories. Going to one of the warungs for an afternoon goreng pisang snack and drink with the intention of ending up at Bukit Merese for sunset, but ending up staying at that warung into the evening, playing with the local kittens and swimming in the “piss water” whilst the owners patiently waited for us to realise their warung had closed. Beejay’s phone dying that afternoon and him somehow still finding us along the beach in the dark. Bumping into one of our surf instructors Mong at Bum Bum Beach Warung, which turned from a chilled beachside cafe into a mostly-local rave on the sand after dark, complete with a rave dog (and playing a round Monopoly deal just before this happened 😆). Going to Pink Swing for sunrise surfs on the last 2 mornings of our trip, hastily organised late at night with Mong via Whatsapp, renting our own boat and boards and catching some of the best waves of the trip. Getting off the boat from the morning surf and ordering some fresh coconuts to hydrate up. On the last morning, Val and I even got there early enough to do some stargazing before the sun came up. Needless to say, saying bye to that place felt bittersweet. And knowing that none of these places exist anymore, so soon after leaving, makes the sense of bittersweet even deeper.
Our final sunset at Bukit Seger, sitting eating snacks and telling jokes whilst watching the sun go down. Being too scared to sit pillion on Val’s bike going over all the potholes, so deciding to go back to Kuta on the back of Beejay’s bike with my legs wrapped around him and Mandy (safety first 🥲), laughing hysterically the entire 15 minute ride back to town.