Photos by Manuel Claudeville Morell, Kylian Castells and Guillem Cruells
The incessant, infinite scroll that takes up actually quite obscene parts of my day is telling me everyone I know is in Indonesia. Literally everyone. Every Team. Every surfer. Every Filmer. All of our Filmers. Who sanctioned this!
I don’t get it. I’ve got this thing with Indonesia and I’m not going to be popular but I don’t like it. There it is. I’ve said it. Cards are on the table and I’ll wear this one with the best of them but I really don’t like it.
It’s crowded. It’s borderline too hot. There are lots of angry people from Australia that live there because they have done bad things at home. These men enjoy shouting in the water and fighting. It’s really far from everywhere. Apart from Hong Kong. Hong Kong is fantastic and you can drink Champagne with Danish models. In Lombok you cannot do this. Whisky sours are very hard to come by. Bintang is water masquerading as beer. The last time I went I crashed a scooter and it was all my fault but it left a bitter taste! An Arak hangover of several weeks. This distain is mainly directed towards Bali as I know there are fantastic other islands with uncrowded waves and blah blah blah but I’m tarring it with the same brush. Sorry
I’m aware I’m in a massive minority here and it’s probably a fantastic place and I’m a kook and have a warped view of the world but difference in opinions is part of the beauty of the world and I am sticking by my convictions on this one. However it appears the world is stacked against me, and as Mr Aliotti will testify – thus we are blessed with the attached postcards…