Lost Souls Found in Amed

by Aryane Garansi (United States of America)

I didn't expect to find Indonesia

Traveling solo in Bali. Or at least I was until I found Amed. Little did I know that through my trek in the noisy crowds of Ubud, and loud and sleepless nights in the clubs of Kuta, awaited an oasis of peace, bliss, and most importantly, happiness, in Amed. Though many make the journey to Bali, fewer are fortunate enough to find themselves in this small fishing town on Bali’s East coast full of kind and caring locals and travelers alike. And my journey had just begun. I had meant for it to be a day trip. One day only in Amed, then head straight back to Ubud. “No need to bring all my things. I’ll leave them at my hotel in Ubud.” I’d thought. How wrong I was. Amed is fairly well known for it’s scuba diving, and so it’s no surprise that’s what brought me there, but it’s not what kept me. I stepped into a small hut, initially having some doubts about the safety of the equipment based solely on the look of the place, but quickly remembered all the high recommendations. My instructor guided me through a beautiful underwater escape filled with brightly colored clown fish, vibrant coral, and a tour through the sunken Liberty Wreck ship. After the dive, he was kind in offering a ride back to my hotel on his scooter, and recommended live music at the hostel near my hotel. As I walked up the dirt road later that night, a dozen dirt-caked scooters were parked in front of the hostel and a rough rendition of what I assumed was Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls” echoed out into the dark. “I think Freddie would be horrified, but at least he’s got heart.” I murmured to myself. I strolled through the front door looking around. Colored benches stood scattered around the room positioned cleverly around the stage where a bizarre young man with Troll doll hair piled high on his head was sitting on a stool playing his guitar. I had barely sat down on a bench alone when a beautiful girl with blond mermaid hair and an Italian accent invited me to sit with her friends. I’ll call her Carina. And that was it. Suddenly my one-man show of a vacation became a whirlwind of color, laughter, friendship, and love. The next day we went off on an unknown adventure where Carina pulled a British guy out of thin air to give me a ride around the town. We shot past warungs and shops, past all buildings, until we could only see trees and brush on both sides of the skinny road. It wound around with sharp curves and turns straight up the mountain. We eventually pulled off to a lonely coconut stand on the side of the road with a backdrop of a cliff falling down to bright green rice terraces stacked against each other, and the dark and looming Mt. Agung volcano in the background. Remnants of coconut shells lay scattered and the scent of fresh coconut and grass filled the air. As I looked out at this beautiful view sharing coconuts with new found friends, I felt at peace. I remember the sound of children’s laughter and water splashing, all echoing across the lone beach steps away where my friends and I ourselves relaxed splashing and laughing in the clear crystal blue pool. I see the colorful sailboats dotted along the dark blue shoreline and light orange hibiscus flowers resting scattered on the warm black sand. I see our whirlwind adventures zipping around on scooters, making our way to Lempuyang Temple, seeking out fresh coconuts, listening to live reggae music, chasing sunrises and finding a sailing adventure with locals in the open sea. These images are vivid in my mind, and treasured more than most memories I hold, because this happiness was what I needed and yet never expected to find. And I have no doubt that anyone making their way to Amed will find that same happiness. It was only supposed to be one day. One day in Amed, but I stayed over a week. Amed was like a dream, but only better, because it was real.