Under pressure of time it was now a priority to make onward progress even if it was still within eyeshot, the shuttle boat took us the 15 minutes that was necessary to replace Trawangan with its markedly quieter neighbour Gili Meno. Random searching soon found us 2 superbly sweet bamboo bungalows with the sort of refinements expected of a honeymoon suite, suitably dubbed with the poetical name of Mimpi Manis (sweet dreams), but the honeymoon period was assuredly well and trully over when Lin promptly stomped out on me, proud or childlike. Not a little perplexed by now, I was at once sad and glad for the ironic opportunity for relaxation, I resolved that though certainly not perfect I hadnt had this problem with any of the hundreds of others I had met on the road and couldnt take all of the responsibility. I had in the passing shared some of my darkest secrets with her, finding the absence of any hint of compassion bewildering, perhaps she had a problem too but despite many fine qualities couldnt face to talk about it. I think I summed it up that though in some ways we were very similar, some differences must have been fundamental. After regathering my fraid nerves I strolled out for the scorchy midday island circuit in full expectation that she was doing the same, and I wasnt sure if it would have been a good idea to bump into her or not. Gili Meno proved to be not the Trawangan party scene but very quiet indeed, with its central concentration by the harbour mustering little more than a shop, a restaurant and a dive shop, the "harbour" itself being just a sign nailed to a tree by the beach. With very few foreigners in evidence, many resorts had an air of abandonment about them and the little activity about involved the much more interesting practices of coconut harvesting, boatbuilding and the odd fisherman pushing off in his outrigger canoe. Though it was perhaps only an hours walk to complete the sandy circuit of scrubby Gili Meno, pressure from the sun and the situation with Lin found me almost making a point of indulging in a beer fuelled pitstop, where local boys friendly as ever walked the tightrope between genuine interest and business motives. I had spied on the way round past the paradisical endless white sandy beach Meno's unique quirk in a small lake, allegedly very saline and used to harvest salt. Though within eyeshot the scorch factor had precluded me from any investigation. Upon return from my prolonged island loop I now realised that away from Lin I was the most relaxed I had been for a while, and so though I spotted her briefly and secretly hoped she would join me, it was perhaps better that she didnt. Spying her later with a guitar strumming local I wished her luck in dodging all his likely demands, it transpired that I never saw her again after that and felt a sad twinge at such a needless acrimonious split, it had to be unprecedented in my near 14 months on the road. You might have expected that I would have got drunk that night but Meno was not so much quiet as dead that night, I unusually got my head down early in view of another early start.