In Indonesia, there are two towns called Kuta. One is the Balinese hellhole where sozzled tourons go, and the other is the small surfer town in Lombok where this post is centred.
It’s also where I learned to surf. I can now successfully stand up on a board, and with any luck, soon I might not need a push to get me going.
Some compare surfing to snowboarding, but I don’t snowboard so I can’t comment. Yet.
Anyhoo, I’ve got sunburn. Again. It sucks.
All the same, I still love surfing, and I’m sprightly enough not to get muscle pains from doing so.
Can’t say the same for mum though. Poor, poor mum. She’s been surfing 2 days in a row, despite my warnings of the terrible muscle pains that will ensue.
Boards, I now know, are hard to keep while on the road, even without the waxing problems. Oh yes. Boards need to be waxed for some reason. You have to get a big piece of wax and rub it on the surfboard really hard.
But enough about surfing for now, as this post is about Kuta, not surfing and stuff.
Kuta Lombok, not Kuta Bali, that is.
So, about Kuta Lombok. It’s a lovely little town on the beach with a few budget hotels and a nearby Novotel.
We, of course, are staying at a cosy place called the G’day inn, in a decent room with running water, a fan, shower, what seems to be an air freshener, wardrobe and a flush toilet.
The place has free breakfast at its cafe, which serves decent food and ice cream.
Oh yes, BTW, we bought a motorbike.
And put skull-and-crossbones stickers (which we bought here) on it.
Our bike has a terrible colour scheme. It’s white with green stripes. I hate it. Mum hates it. We couldn’t get it painted and now we face the consequences.
Did I mention I can surf?