If you drive west out of Mataram, past the last warungs of Lembar, the road begins to twist along a coastline that looks like it never saw that trending social media post about “development.”

This is Sekotong—a sleepy peninsula of coconut groves, slow days, and offshore islands so small they barely dent the horizon. It’s the kind of place people whisper about with a mix of pride and protectiveness: “Don’t tell too many others.”

Here, you won’t find infinity-pool brunches or rows of beanbags. What you’ll find instead are the Southwest Gilis—a constellation of tiny, often-empty islets where the water is as clear as glass and time seems to take naps.

Meet the Southwest Gilis

There are more than a dozen islands scattered off Sekotong’s coast, but only a handful have names travellers might recognise: Gili Asahan, Gili Nanggu, Gili Sudak, Gili Kedis, and Gili Layar (what happened to the once up and coming Gili Gede?).

They’re nothing like the famous trio up north (Gili Trawangan, Gili Air, Gili Meno). But these are quieter, humbler, less filtered. They’re the kind of islands where you can still bump into the fisherman who drives the boat you arrived in.

Each has its own personality—but together, they make up the last true “hidden” part of Lombok’s island scene.

Gili Asahan — The Soul of the Southwest

It’s the largest, most developed (in relative terms), and the easiest to base yourself on for a few days.

Picture this: a horseshoe of sand and palm trees, a handful of barefoot resorts, a local fishing village, and the sound of roosters competing with the ocean.

You can snorkel straight from shore, kayak around the island in an hour, or rent a paddleboard and glide over coral gardens so shallow you feel like you’re floating above a painting.

At night, lights twinkle across the water from the mainland, and dinner usually means grilled fish and a cold Bintang under a sky full of stars.

There are no clubs. No touts. No scooters revving past your sunset.

Just you, the tide, a few horses and a sense that the world forgot to rush you.

Gili Nanggu — The “Postcard Island” That’s Somehow Still a Secret – well sort of

If you’ve ever Googled “Secret Gilis,” you’ve probably seen Gili Nanggu—a near-perfect circle of sand ringed by neon-blue shallows.

The island has a small, mostly abandoned resort and little else. No shops, no streets, no playlists—just a walking trail, coral gardens, and that slow, hypnotic sound of water meeting sand.

Snorkelling here is sublime. The reef begins a few metres from shore, and the fish don’t seem to care that you’re there. Expect clownfish, angelfish, and flashes of electric blue darting through soft coral.

Locals from the mainland often visit for picnics, so weekdays are your best bet if you want the illusion of owning an island.

Gili Sudak & Gili Kedis — Tiny Islands, Big Charm

A short boat ride from Nanggu brings you to Gili Sudak, known for its shallow coral and quiet vibe. It’s often used as a lunch stop—grilled seafood served on simple wooden tables under palm fronds. The water here is the kind of clear that ruins you for normal beaches.

Then there’s Gili Kedis, smaller than a football field,which can be walked around in 2-minutes and can be described as “the nomadic island escape for people that don’t want to meet others.”

There’s nothing on it—literally nothing—but white sand, driftwood, and your dark fantasy of being happily shipwrecked on an utterly beautiful deserved island.

It’s also where Feel Lombok sometimes sets up their quiet overnight camps, letting travellers sleep on Kedis while the ocean wraps the island on all sides—soft, subtle, and still somehow completely wild.