The Broken Compass

Firstly, let me introduce myself. My name is Chloe, although most of my friends call me Clo. I’m five foot, six inches tall with blonde hair that sits past my shoulders, and an expressive, yet cute face. My tits are proportionate, a perky c-cup, and my arse is full and toned with just a little bit of jiggle. You can check my photos on the forums for confirmation! People have often described me as having the innocent girl next door look, despite my innocence being extremely questionable at times. You join me two months after my twenty-second birthday, and a month into my travels.

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The smell of the under-tuned diesel engines continued to irritate my lungs as we sped northwest across the Bali Sea. I checked my watch, roughly fifteen minutes still to go if the first officer’s estimated arrival time was to be believed. Salty spray coated my face as I looked out over the side of the boat, our destination island now visible on the horizon. I smiled to myself, The Gili islands had quickly become one of my dream destinations, and here I was, approaching the main island on my second week in Asia – after starting my travels in Australia and neighbouring New Zealand.

The anticipation thrummed within me, mixing with the gentle hum of excitement that bubbled beneath my skin. As the boat cut lazily through the azure waters, I couldn’t help but marvel at the vibrant hues of the ocean, each shade merging seamlessly into the next like strokes of a master painter’s brush. The beauty simply took my breath away.

With the island growing closer, and its details coming into focus, a flicker of nostalgia washed over me. With my eyes feasting on the scenery I recalled the countless hours spent poring over travel blogs and Instagram feeds, each image of the Gili islands further igniting my desire to explore the magic firsthand. Now, with the boat entering the shallower waters as it drew nearer to the shoreline, I felt a surge of gratitude wash over me, grateful for the opportunity to explore this slice of paradise that had beckoned to me from across the globe.

The boat slowed to a gentle sway and the passengers stirred from their slumbers, ready to disembark. I gathered my belongings, my backpack’s weight a familiar comfort against my shoulders. Stepping onto the weathered wooden dock, I inhaled deeply, the salty tang of the sea mingling with the earthy scent of the island’s foliage.

The makeshift-looking port was alive with activity. Fishermen prepared their boats for the night’s fishing, hawkers showed their wares and locals offered the service of mules to help with heavy luggage and transport for the island’s new arrivals. With my bag clipped at the front, easing the load, I double-checked my heading and set off.

Navigating through the throng of fellow travellers, I made my way along the sandy path that circumnavigated the island. Colourful hostels, vibrant bars and simple restaurants lined the path, each adding its individual personality to the island’s relaxed feel. I walked with a beaming smile, despite only seeing a small part, and experiencing none of it fully, Gili Trawangan was already a highlight of my travels.

With the sun slowly fading in the late afternoon, I found myself drawn to the shoreline. Kicking off my sandals, and clipping them to my pack, I ventured off the main path and onto the beach. The sand was hot beneath my bare feet, almost too hot, the gentle lull of the waves cooling the string each time they washed playfully over my toes.

Sweat glistened on my bronzed skin as I followed the shore northwards, my senses alive with heady smells, sounds and sights. Checking my phone I saw I’d walked too far, passing the hostel’s road a short while back. The island was small, but I hadn’t expected my base for the next few nights to be so close to the port area – even with my extensive research.

The Broken Compass Hostel was a sight to behold. A curved pool dominated the central space with tastefully weathered tiki huts and pergolas offering communal seating areas and respite from the sun. Clusters of bean bag loungers and colourful chairs dotted the outdoor space giving guests various places to go when wanting some alone time or to break away into smaller groups. For £10 a day, I was overwhelmed by what was on offer.

My room was a coed dorm with access to a shared bathroom. Everything was spotlessly clean and recently renovated. Despite offering occupancy for up to four guests, my only other roommate was a lovely South African girl called Charlize.

Charlize welcomed me to the shared space with a hug, her affection and vibrant personality immediately putting me at ease. She even took the time to show me how my personal locker worked and helped me with the provided charging banks, a small kindness that warmed my heart.

With my belongings stowed, and a towel and toiletry bag in hand, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up, relishing the cool rejuvenation of tepid water on sun-kissed skin. I shaved, everywhere, something I did every time I showered. I hated stubble and always felt most confident when soft and silky after shaving, so it had become routine.

Dried off and back in my shared room, I ditched my travel-worn clothes, swapping into a somewhat risque, black bikini with a crochet-knit, long-sleeve, dress over the top. Perfecting my makeup, and shaking out my hair, I headed out into the bustling activity with my new South African friend.

It was barbecue night at the hostel, a weekly event they hosted to bring guests together. Charlize led me to the pool area where the staff expertly grilled a colourful array of Indonesian skewers, light smoke rising from the grill and carrying the delicious aromas to our noses. I took them in, salivating at the thought of trying the ***********ion.

The atmosphere was vibrant. The light from the red setting sun combined beautifully with twinkling string lights to illuminate the area in a casual yet intimate hue. The space was buzzing, filled with the laughter and chatter of fellow travellers. Charlize and I grabbed a beer each from the cute bartender, a dimpled smile lighting up his face when we thanked him, before heading into the crowd. My new friend dragged me around the pool and over to a group of lads lounging on a mismatched set of bean bags and chairs, sipping beers and joking around.

Charlize introduced me to the Australian backpackers. The lads were all very handsome and had a welcoming, easygoing vibe. Tom, with his flowing blonde hair and laid-back demeanour, grabbed a couple of extra seats and arranged them in the circle allowing us to join them.