"One hundred thousand boss", pitched the guy at the pony transport office, "sixty", I replied, fully prepared to meet him at seventy to stifle any protracted haggling for an hour's ride around Meno island. "Forty", he countered quickly without blinking. Negotiating services in the backwaters of Indonesia were clearly going to be less of a headache than previously anticipated as here we find ourselves on the pristine and desolate shoreline of Gili Meno...more