Lombok

In Lombok, it struck me that the world was built for money. Sell the things the moneyed want. They have everything in the world but experiences. So, you sell them experiences. You sell them the things they can only take away in photographs. You sell them tiny mementos to commemorate their experiences.

Feed them the way they want to be fed: pizza, gelato, burgers and fries. Let them pay the prices they’d pay overseas.

Build a swing where the sun sets. The people will clamour for shots. They will wade where the shells are broken and the coral cuts their toes for a shot on that swing.

Build for their senses. And be their slaves.

I felt lesser in the presence of the tourists on the Gili islands. There is a practiced air of snobbery. Puddles of drunken debauchery. They own the island because they have money. The island will continue to grow because of their money.

Tourism is a funny thing.

Such a lovely swing, though.