21st - 25th October 2011
Jumping off the boat, onto the sand we headed for the small bunglows directly opposite our landing point. We said yes to the first bunglaow we saw - there really wasn't much difference between it and everything else on the beach; on wooden stilts, wooden floor boards and palm fronds covering everything else - walls and ceiling, finished off with enticingly behavioural correctional facility-esque bars on the windows. Oh and everytime we banged a door dark stuff loosened itself from the ceiling and dropped into our bed. Now that's paradiso rustica!
We had some seafood noodles from the restaurant attached to our "hotel" which were very underwhelming, actually they were a bit gross - the first taste of bad food we'd had in a long time.
We sat on the beach and watched the sun set, it was one of those that you think can't get better so you take a picture,
but then it does get better
and
before
you
know
it,
you're taking pictures every five minutes.
(click on the image to be re-directed to the slideshow)
The sky was a disco, a red disco of marvellousness. A Canadian girl was walking along the beach and stopped to talk during the sunset and gave us a great tip for food - the restaurant attached to her 'hotel', we ended up eating there everyday (the shrimp sandwiches, oh my!) She, Cheryl, also told us about the phosphourescent plankton in the water, so while I decided to have an early night and check it out later, Djalma donned his trunks and went out for a midnight paddle.
The next day a most annoying cock was cock-a-doodle-doing right outside our window, I could have made a chicken sandwich out of it right there and then had I been able to get myself out of bed.
We eventually clambered out from underneath the mosquito net and made our way to the last restaurant on the beach and to the most beautiful, wonderful, succulent prawn sandwiches for breakfast. I'm slobbering all over my keyboard as I write. Then we sat on a couple of deck chairs, our feet in the water and read. I read all morning thankful for some time to myself while Djalma sat and talked with a German nomad dude, Cheryl and her girlfriend and some other guy who was having girlfriend trouble, thankful for some different company.
We didn't do much that evening either, after a quick shower in our little bungalow we headed back to our new favourite restaurant with our bottle of rum and ordered fresh grilled prawns with chips and fried fish with vegetables. We left under the cover of a borrowed tarpalin and a mac, sheltering us from the driving rain delivered by a spectacular storm. The next day when Cheryl mentioned that she'd heard my scream, I felt more than a little embarrased. Safely back in our room but drenched, we realised that we'd STILL yet to learn our lesson about closing windows before leaving our hotel rooms. One side of the bed was drenched and part of the ceiling was leaking. We flipped the mattress and laid the macs over the mosquito net but within minutes of getting back, the rain eased off and then stopped all together. Next time, next time we will not leave our windows open, especially in monsoon season. We watched Shrek, Happily Ever After and went to sleep leaving the cockroaches to find shelter where they could, as long as it wasn't in bed with us.
Feeling the slow pace of island living settle in a little too much we decided, after breakfast, to walk round the island. We ate and I wrote in the my blog while Djalma chatted to his new friends and then we dropped off the computer, put on lots of suncream and... closed the windows!
The route round the island mainly followed the coast, there were no roads, the island was too small for that, only small footpaths. We left our beach and small jetty behind and followed the overgrown footpath to a little beach and the first of many algae farms. Water bottles bobbed up and down in the clear water keeping afloat whatever it was they were collecting under the water.
We continued on, cutting off a corner and coming to another beach, just a few shacks with a couple of families going about their business in a slow, leisurely and very island like way. The beach was long and lined with the most beautiful palm trees.
The odd dog ambled along the bach leaving his pawprints in the sand and cockerels scratched among flowers trying to run away when we got too close. Chickens are such funny animals to watch.
At the end of the beach we turned in land a little and did our best to avoid upsetting the ants. Ants are the scourge of the earth, evil little buggers, their bites hurt for hours and even though there are so many of them you never see them until it's too late - they're already on you biting away like the little feckers they are. Rant over, we didn't get bitten too often, it is more of a general hate really.
After finding a way through masses of brambles and low lying bushes we came to another beach and here we found a little open sided shack where we sat for over an hour talking and relaxing and drinking lots of water.
Breaktime over we continued to the end of the beach and from here we waded for a couple of hours through a very clean and very beautiful mangrove. The water was consistently shallow and clear, the rocks and pebbles beneath it bright oranges and reds peppered with mangrove shoots and larger trees.
It was so pretty - I wish I had taken more pictures because soon enough the real mangrove swamp beckoned and we were fighting to keep out of the rancid mud, hold on to our flip flops, keep our balance, fend off nasty mosquitos and get the hell out of there as soon as was possible. Funnily enough there wasn't much of a trail to follow and I didn't hang around to take any pictures.
We did make it out of there alive and we squelched our nasty black coated feet out along a spit of sand and rinsed them off in the water. The views were beautiful, the sky was blue in one direction and grey and cloudy towards mainland and we could see the rain dropping out of the sky obliterating the view with a veil of white. Congratulating ourselves on finally remembering to close our bedroom windows we picked up the pace just in case the rain was headed our way (I didn't have any waterproof cover for my camera bag).
We continued walking in the sea, not able to follow any route on land that wasn't much further in, by now it had been several hours since we'd left and we were more than ready to round the next corner and find our beach and a cold beer.
We rounded the next corner and it was just more water and unfamiliar coastline. I thought this island was supposed to be small?! We carried on walking round, rocks in the water getting bigger, the water getting deeper and saw hundred of inch long fish jump out of the water like synchronised swimmers, in and out, in and out. It was stunning, but I stood around with my mouth open too long to get my camera out quick enough and take a picture of the spectacle, I took a picture of a boat instead.
The fish I commited to memory.
After a few more corners we eventually reached our beach, not a moment too soon, our lovely afternoon stroll/walk/clamber/wade was almost becoming a never ending mission to just get the hell back to our mini civilisation. That said, it was a beautiful day.
That evening we took our bottle of rum, which was basically still full (after only a couple of drinks the previous night) and shared it with Cheryl and her girlfriend (I can't remember her name but she was soft spoken and very pretty, both women had grown out undercuts which matched, unintentionally). We ordered fried fish with ginger, something that Djalma had been dying to try since the girls had recommended it but it used so much ginger that each time Djalma had asked for it, the restaurant had run out. We feasted that night, fish, chips, rice and plenty of rum. We sat and talked, about goodness knows what but I do know that I found it very interesting, and when the young family who owned the restaurant wanted to go to bed and turn out the lights we headed back to sit on the girls' little balcony and talk some more. Their balcony backed out onto a garden fringed with palm trees and we listened to the cicadas and the rustle of the leaves while Djalma snoozed in the low slung hammock. Then joy of joys, my Mum called and I sat and talked to my Mum and my Nan who I hadn't spoken to for over a month and missed so much. I only wished that the cicadas would stop chirping and that my ears would stop roaring and that I wasn't quite so drunk. We were cut off midsentence but the talk was enough to boost my spirits no end. I love you guys!
Djalma and I wobbled back home around 1am and decided to get changed into our swimmers and go for a midnight paddle. It was my first time in the water at night and it was so much fun. Away from the odd light (there weren't many because the only electricity came from generators that ran from 6pm-9pm in most hotels) the water glittered and sparkled with every movement. Footsteps shimmered and faded until the next one, it was magical enough without being under the influence of lots of lovely rum but drunk as I was it was even better. We splashed around like little kids, the wind off the sea carrying away any noise that would have woken people up, and then Djalma in his youthful exuberance decided to see if pee would sparkle too. It did. He was delighted. I gave him and his sparkly pee a wide berth until I was sure it had dispersed. If you ever get the chance to swim in a place that has the same marine phenomenom, do it! It is beautiful (peeing is optional).
The next day went something like this: sleep in, breakfast, sit and stare out to sea, read,
have a nap, wake up, decide another nap is necessary, have a nap, walk along the beach,
at sunset get a massage,
have dinner, feel human. We had some more ginger fish that night, the mountain of ginger doing us a huge amount of good, we also sat and talked to a Russian guy and his friend, well Djalma talked and I just sat there, for pudding we shared a stupendously wonderful fresh coconut shake and then were off to bed to get some more rest.
Sadly, on our last day, our little restaurant had run out of baguettes, we had hoped to have one last shrimp/squid sandwich each before leaving but it was not to be. I had a banana and nutella pancake and Djalma some noodles, it was good but not quite the same. We said goodbye, picked up our things and jumped on the boat that we had arranged to collect us the previous day. The young family who owned the nice restaurant were also heading back to the mainland and I managed to snag a little cuddle with their little girl - her Dad helped to haul in the anchor and left her standing there and she lost it when they boat started to move so I scooped her up and plonked her in my lap. She was a Daddy's girl through and through and a right little madam at that but an absolute cutie none the less, I handed her back over to a father desperate for more cuddles when he sat back down.
Back on the mainland we returned our big water bottle to the shop we bought it from and got the 4 dollar deposit back, Djalma negotiated a tuk-tuk and we bumped our way to one last stop before crossing over to Vietnam.
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