If my eyes glaze over a little when I talk about Gili Meno, it's because I'm remembering the sound of warm, clear green water lapping at the fine white sand on the beach, the soft, dark hills rolling along the skyline across the water and the bluest sky I've ever seen, punctuated on most days by dreamy white clouds. The island's tranquility was only broken by a thunderstorm that shook our bungalow one night. Other than that, our days consisted of sticky banana pancakes, wandering around on car-free roads befriending the island's people and cats, snorkelling, and taking our meals under a shaded cabana at our favourite warung. We ventured to neighbouring Gili Trawangan and Gili Air but always returned to quiet, remote little Gili Meno where - as I often think while trudging to the office in my cold, slushy city - life is exactly as it should be.