'The Hill'

Today I did it!!

Inspired last night by Nutmegs wonderful accounts of her journey through France, Spain and Portugal to get to the Boon festival, (http://biketoboom.blogspot.com) I today got the bike out and cycled all 3k to the shops!!

This may not seem like much of an adventure but one has to remember there is 'The Hill' to be contended with during this 3k. The ONLY hill on the circular road that surrounds the island. 'The Hill' that rises up for an eternity, 'The Hill' that drains the very essence from your limbs as you look at its imposing altitude!


The last time I attempted this journey, I told myself there was no rush. I slowly pushed the bike up the two sides of 'The Hill', resting every few meters in the shade. I stopped to take photos, to admire the view, to breath! The sun was too hot, I told myself. I wasn't used to the bike, the heat, the wind. I was nearly 50!!

The bike has remained in the shed ever since.

For the past week I have sat in the garden, I have sat in my rooms, I have sat upstairs, I have sat in the van being driven from place to place. I have loved every moment of this sitting, this permitted laziness. I have nothing to prove, nothing to do and all day to do it.

Today, however, I awoke restless. I lay in the garden, I read my book, I swept my house, I burnt all those bits of paper that had been building in my waste bin.


I had spent last night re-reading Nutmegs Blog. I had copied it into a book form and had read it in its entirety. It was inspirational. It made you want to jump on a bike and go see the world! Today I decided I would go to the SHOP!


I wheeled the gear-less, brake-less heavy red machine around from her resting place. I pushed her up the steep path to the top of the driveway, pausing to catch my breath as I did. Pape helped me push her up the actual drive and I was on my way.
(Once I had carefully lowered her and myself down the even steeper slope of the long driveway – no brakes remember!)

I emerged onto the road, happy to see a car drive past on the other side, at least I knew where I should be on the road now! I will get used to the left hand roads eventually, but it is nice to be reminded of where you should be BEFORE you face a car, head-on, on 'Your' side of the road!


I remembered instantly the other small detail that had highlighted my previous venture onto Moorean roads. The pot-holes. Or to be more exact the 'filled to various levels pot-holes'. Mounds and bumps, dips and ridges ricocheted through my body as I decided this bike was quite possibly suspension-less too!

The breeze was warm, the sun was hot, it was 9am! We rode around the worst of the bumps, I waved at some children bouncing on their trampoline, I called “Bonjour” to people, smiling as they called back. I tried not to think about 'The Hill'


Then it was there. Rising before me, flowers along its side, palms waving high above. I could do this.

I rose up on the pedals pressing my weight into each step. One, Two, One, Two. I began to climb the short but steep incline. 50m to go. One, Two, One, Two. 30M to go, One, Two, One, Two. My breath pants out.

“Quit” says some inner voice, “You have nothing to prove, there is no rush.”

10m, One, Two, so, so close. My hands pull on the handle bars, my feet push hard into each down stroke of the pedals. Never have I made such a big deal over a mere 10m. And then it is over! The road flattens out. The boys sitting in the car that has watched my climb from the gates of the plantation nod in encouragement as I pass.


I smile, pleased with myself yet embarrassed at the effort I needed to climb a small hill. The ride to the shop is now all downward. A whole km of gentle slope. I stop pedalling and enjoy the slow but definite ride to the bottom.


At the shop I load up with fresh bread rolls made on the island, soft and warm to the touch. I pick a selection of ripe tomatoes, a Kiwi fruit, and an onion to fry with the pumpkin back home. With my provisions safely stored in the small basket on the handlebars I begin the return trip.

This side of the hill is long and gradual. It lulls you into a false sense of ease, it begins, then continues and continues and continues. I stand up in the pedals again, pushing down with my weight.

We climb and climb the gradual slope but it is never ending. 200M to go and I am ready to stop. The voice is back. “Why push yourself? Relax. You can walk the final stretch. Stop and rest, admire the view like you did the last time”


I am so nearly convinced, after all I am nearly 50! As that though enters my head I become aware I am being over-taken by another cyclist. A skeletal woman with leathery brown skin shoots past me and raced ahead. Her legs are thin match-sticks pounding away, One-Two-Three-Four. Her bike is shiny, it even has gears but this woman must be nearly 80!!!

My resolve is back. The voice is banished. One, Two, One, Two. 50m, 30m, 10m.

YES!

The lady is nowhere in sight as I reach the top of 'The Hill', the air races into my lungs. When did I become so unfit?

The steep drop is before me welcoming me, rewarding me with speed and a cooling breeze. The pot-holes are forgotten as I race down the other side of 'The Hill'. Cars and lorries wait behind me as I am flying now. The final corner and the road flattens out again.

The waiting cars pass by, a hand is waved through an open window into the air, I wave back smiling the biggest grin ever.


I am still grinning when I get back to the house.



The steep climb back up the driveway is nothing. I have conquered 'The Hill'. I return triumphant, nothing can spoil my day.

My Baby is put back into her shed, we are friends now. Tomorrow we will ride out together again. Possible in the other direction though, the direction without 'The Hill'.

The Sun Shines

When the sun shines, this truly is a wonderful Island. Colours burst forth from every direction, the clearest shades of blue from the sea, darkening with the depths, shimmering in the shallows.





The rich greens of the garden, banana, papaya, mango moving gently against the back drop of grass.






The intense greens of the forests where vines intertwine with the trees. Long tendrils drooping down, curving and tangling to form impenetrable walls, as solid as the volcanic walls that rise shear from their base.



The colours of the various flowers simply can not be described so I shall not even try. Everywhere you look colour fills the senses, even the browns of fading leaves, the yellows of fallen palm fronds add to the textures of this place.




Brightly feathered cockerels strut about the place, crowing their supremacy, white flashes, like those of a magpie, announce the arrival of the Mynar birds as they arrive on the bird table.

There is also no twilight, no lingering dawn. One moment there is darkness, the next there is colour.


My exploration around the Island have been limited by my own laziness. I have been to the shops to buy food and bread, I have been to the famous look out point at Bellveder.





I have been to the neighbours to meet and greet everyone at a wonderful gathering that had people singing loudly into the early hours of the morning, guitars, and other stringed instruments being beautifully played by everyone you meet.

I have walked the length and breadth of the garden, picking up leaves, peering down the enormous holes made by the land crabs, clearing the climbing grass from the borders, refilling the compost bins scattered around the place.


And I have spent a morning following Pape and Jan around the local bureaucratic offices as, in French, they have tried to register me with the local health care.

Jan has been an angel filling in the forms, asking all the questions, directing us from one office to the next. The 40 plus years she spent working for the bureaucracy shone through as she slowly, and carefully, worked her way through all the different options until I am now safely within the system.


Today, however I ventured out alone! Well not totally alone. Nella, our neighbour at the bottom of the garden, rows for a local Tahitian Canoeing club. They meet informally every other Wednesday to take the long 6 person Kayak out onto the lagoon. Today I had my first lesson in Tahitian Canoeing, in French!!! To be fair, the few instruction they gave me in English I carried out to a 'T', during the French instructions, I just copied what everyone else was doing and hoped for the best.

There are no photos I am afraid but I will try to add some at a later date.

We pushed the long Canoe into the shallows, I was shown where to sit and instructed on how to use the single wooden paddle. The wonderful little French speaking instructor explained to me in perfect English, how to change paddle sides when the caller called HEY (or something that sounded like Hey!) I had, she explained, one more stroke on that side and then I had to change to the other side of the canoe as fluently as I could and keep the beat with the other paddlers! Simple!!

The speed at which these people paddle their canoe is something resembling the beginning of 'Hawaii 50' speeded up ten times!! Whether my paddling actually contributed to the movement of the boat or not I do not know as we raced through the water. Splashes of cooling water sprayed across my back as the paddles were moved from one side to the other following the call of 'HEY'. We paddled into the wind, spray from the tiny crests blowing into our faces. I didn't have a clue as to where we were suppose to be going but our trajectory seemed a bit erratic as we dove through the waves into the morning sun.

At one point some serious back paddling had to be done as we drifted dangerously close to the reef during a water consumption break. We returned to the shore with the wind and sun to our backs. Either I was improving or the wind was helping, as we positively flew across the water. A pep talk was delivered in the shallows, instructions for steering seemed to be the theme. The lady, who's position I had happily occupied, rejoined her team and they returned to the water. I waited on the shore in the shade of a palm, arms happy for the rest-bite, feet and ankles cooling in the sea.


It is two more weeks until they meet again but, with their permission, I will be back, paddling away like there is no tomorrow on the blue blue sea.

Life in Moorea Continues

Five days into my new life and the sun has come out at last, which is a blessing as we now have warm water! I have been putting off having a shower for days now, as cold water mixed with cold air and gusts of cold wind, were just not conducive to naked washing. But today the sun is shining, the wind has dropped and I now have clean hair, clean toes and non smelly armpits!! Bliss!!

The bite situation has calmed down a bit too as I have not received any new bites since my hour in the garden two days ago. I am still getting 'hives' (horrid small red raised bumps) which is quite surprising as it is NOT hot here and they are incredibly itchy, but I have given up on the plaster situation as I am running out of bare skin around my ankles! I now have a tiny glass of neat vinegar which, once things begin to itch, I dab onto my skin to sterilise any scratching I do, plus it helps to cool the area!

Although I am sharing my new life with Pape, we have our own separate homes and am I glad I live alone at the moment, between the non washing and vinegar routine, this place smells divine!!

There is also the faint lingering after-aroma of wood preservative! During the past three days of bad weather, Pape and I designed and built shelves for my main room.


Once the drawings had been perfected, the wood sourced and brought home, we managed to finish the whole building thing in a day, including the painting. This morning our masterpiece was pushed against the wall and loaded up with my belongings.

I now have a desk with a spot light to work at, Krsna has his own private temple above my head. There is room for Pape's guitar on the top shelf, room for books, Back-gammon, Scrabble, plus Pape's Singer Sewing Machine, which we have decided can live down here!

Before I left the UK, I made three reversible, colourful, collage pictures from travel magazines. These have travelled flat in my case halfway around the world and brighten up the place beautifully. I have also discovered they have Blue Tack here (except it is Yellow!) so glow in the dark stars are slowly making their way across my ceiling!!

The gardening is coming along slowly, more pots have been added to the five I planted up upon arrival. We now have French beans, Mixed Lettuce,Courgette, Squash, Egg Plant, Tomato seeds, Chives, Spinach, Green cabbage, Spring Onions, Red Cabbage and Leeks planted up!


And today I noticed our first Babies peaking their heads above the moist compost!! French beans, mixed lettuce and Courgette have all broken loose and are on their way. The raised beds, that Pape built, are ready and eager to receive their new arrivals. The wild chickens need to be deterred, but I am sure we can train the dogs to protect our children, if necessary!

Our other common interest, in this quiet laid back country, is singing. Pape makes his living from singing in the local Hotels. It is something he loves and is very good at. He sell his CD's regularly at his gigs, his book is also popular. Today, once we had finished the final touches to the shelving and wiring down here, we moved upstairs. Pape likes my voice and during his afternoon nap he came up with an idea to introduce me slowly (very slowly if I have my way) into his act. I will begin by just joining him on one or two choruses.

We spent a few hours this morning just singing and trying to find out where my 'key' is. Pape, unfortunately, sings right at the extremes of my range. If I sing in his octave I cant reach the low notes, if I sing an octave higher, I find I squeak on the high notes. We moved a few songs up or down a note or two, messed about with a few others that I knew and eventually I learnt three choruses that, if I practice every day for the next week, I will, possibly, if we both feel comfortably enough, join him 'on stage' with.

We are also working on a version of 'It Ain't Me Babes' for me!!!! It is the only one we could find totally in my range, lol! Whether this ever works out or not is not an issue, it is simple good to sit around playing music and singing as the day passes by.

The Internet is still an annoying issue. Photos for the Blog take about four minutes each to load up! I have updated the 'Arrival in Tioman' with Photos but have only managed 4, I think, for the 'Life Continues' bit! As for the latest stories I haven't even started!! The photos are ready, named and filed, but time is an issue. I have explained this to Pape and we will hopefully begin work on finding me an aerial soon. Also our neighbour is leaving the country in about a month! As it is his internet connection that we are using, I'm not too sure what will happen then. Pape has no phone line, so having a unit here is not an option. But I'm sure things will work out as he likes the internet as much as me – well nearly as much!

And so the days begin to form their own routine once again. Breakfast, singing, shopping/gardening, sleeping, singing, supper, conversation, sleep.

And the sun IS threatening to come out again soon!! So they say!!!

Hic-cups in Paradise

The rains seem to have coincided their arrival with mine and after three days in paradise, it is still raining!! The daytime temperature stays at around 24 degrees (Pape is complaining about how cold it is!!), grey clouds cover the sky, the wind blows in off the sea bringing cool damp air with it and the rain just keeps falling!

To be fair it does stop from time to time. The afternoon of my arrival passed in torrential rain. A blessing in disguise it turned out, as we had nearly run out of water after the dry, dry season had gone on for ages. A huge storm build up as the evening progressed, gale-force gusts tearing at the banana trees in the garden and whipping at the shutters.


The windows of Papes house consist of re-enforced wire backed with a fine open mesh to keep the beasties out plus outside shutters that can be pulled down to lock the place up.



The cooling ventilation they provide is magnificent during the hot dry days. During a gale force storm full of cold damp air straight off the sea, they take a little getting used to.

Upstairs, Pape has designed a quick efficient way of opening, closing and locking them down. Down-stairs, the work is still in progress.


I retired to bed as the storm pulled and pushed its way around my rooms. I dropped two of the shutters on the east side of the house. Unable to lock them down tight, the wind was delighted and proceeded to lift them slightly, wiggle its way in and then dropped them back down with a dull thud. I lay in my new bed, new sounds, new experiences, my new t-shirt from Jan under my night clothes keeping me warm. No this was not quite the paradise I had envisioned.

The next day dawned overcast, rain still drizzled from the sky. Pape called down that we had plenty of water now, I could shower, flush the loo, have a bath if I wanted!! Without the sun to warm the thermal hot water system it would be in cold water, but we did have water. I smiled and had a flannel wash!

The rain eased off mid day, blue sky could be spotted out to sea. I put a loose sarong on and hit the garden. The first, of what I hope to be many, seeds were planted out in pots, I picked leaves from the grass to add to the compost heaps and got eaten by tiny flying beasties!!

as a quick side note, there is another obvious difference about paradise that one has to learn very quickly. All cuts, no matter how tiny MUST be covered immediately. There are air-borne infections everywhere and every cut, no matter how small, becomes infected.



I had arrived from Tioman with the beginnings of cystitis plus a bite on my right foot was swollen and hot, so our first stop, before we even got to the house, was to the doctors. The usual 'let the air get to it' does not exist here. Anti-biotics, antibacterial soap, alcohol wipes and sterile dressings were soon picked up on prescription , my foot was dressed, a few other open scratches were covered and Pape pronounced me safe!

Following my hour with the beasties in the garden, I proceeded to inch and scratch. Opening up more and more tiny open scratches. Each of these has to be cleaned and covered with a white plaster for about 4 days until they heal. It is not a pretty sight!

Not that there is any sun to go bath in, so I am wearing my full length Indian Nighties around the place to keep me covered and to keep warm. As I mentioned before, there are screens in all my windows so I have full air circulation but I must remember to keep the door closed at all times or the little bastards get in and then cant get out!!

So life in Moorea Summery

It rains every day
There are gale force winds forcing their way in through my open mesh windows, which if I close the shutters, make an annoying noise and plunge me into darkness!
You cant go out when it stops raining as it is too cool and overcast and the monsters eat you.
Any slightest scratch, bite or cut immediately becomes infected and has to be treated with all sorts of complicated stuff.
I have NO Internet in my rooms as my laptop antennae isn't strong enough to find the neighbours signal. I need to invest in a booster the same as Papes but that will take about a week (at least) or so to order and arrange!!
None of my three pin plugs work here and Pape cant find the transformer at the moment so I cant charge the phone, which is dead, plus I need a new SIM card, but there doesn't seem a lot of point in getting one of those until I find a way of charging the phone!!
There is ONE hill in the entire circular road going around the island – it resembles the Abercegyr hill into Mach – and it is right between the house and every shop I could possibly need about a mile away!!! = ¼ mile flat, ¼ mile up, ¼ mile down, ¼ mile flat!
Plus everything, once you make it to the shops, is HUGELY expensive! Ie £2 for a pack of pasta!!

BUT

Pape has wired in a power source for my laptop and speaker so I have music and can type.
I have recovered, with aid of the hand Singer machine, a falling apart chair so I sit down on my porch (well when it stops raining and the beasties go away I can!) Pape has lent me one of his chairs for now so I can at least sit at the table and type.
Yesterday we designed some shelving and a work desk for me for my little rooms and today we picked up the wood, this afternoon (energy allowing) we will begin the build!
We also went on a mission for me to have some sort of kitchen, chopping board, glass containers to keep crawling beasties out, chop-sticks, tin food, basic condiments- salt, pepper, vinegar, curry powder, basil, milk powder, corn flour, PRINGLES!!! I didn't look at the price!! I was too afraid!
(I just looked at the receipt Pringles =330 Tahitian francs – someone sent me a conversion rate – Pape says to divide things by 7 but that would make them nearly £6!!! )

But I also promised to come and try the life, so if I survive the next month alive, I should be OK. Every place, I suppose, has its good and its bad, it is just that I wasn't expecting the bad bits here so soon! And they are so unexpected!!! Cold, expensive, raining, windy, no internet!! At least at home I could put the heating on!! Ah well the sun will come out soon..... won't it????

Moorea

Having made the flight out of Singapore; thanks mainly to Peter who pulled and pushed 28kg of suitcase (plus his own back-pack!)on and off the buses throughout Malaysia, and Singapore, dragged 28kg of luggage (plus his own back-pack) through the crowded streets of Singapore while we looked for a hotel, and then man-handled 28kg of baggage (this time without his own back-pack which was safe in the hotel) onto the even busier Singapore metro to finally get me to the airport; I boarded my plane with mixed emotions. I then spent 24 hours in Aukland Airport, while I awaited my connecting flight.

My mood was sombre, the time slipped by slowly. Memories of the last few weeks replaying in my mind. This was it. In the next 24 hours I would reach my destination for the next year. I would unpack the 28kg, make myself a home, learn a new pace and way of life and see what life held.

I arrived mentally exhausted and emotional. Tears threatened to overflow at any given opportunity. “24 hours” I kept telling myself. Keep going for just another 24 hours and you can let go then. Just through the airport, get to the hotel, get to the ferry, get to your new home. It will all be OK soon.

Pape was waiting at the door way, flower garland in his hands. We hugged,, we smiled, the tears threatened again but I pushed them back down. 24 hours! 24 hours.

Live music began to play, a floor show of dancers in tiny white costumes gyrated across the floor. Drums pounded out a rhythm, feet were stamped, hips were thrust to and fro shaking the costumes decorative shells adding to the percussion. The gathering people cheered and applauded. The dance continued with increasingly energetic steps and movements, sweat soon glistening on the bodies of those involved. The crowd grew, cameras capturing the moment. My mind was distracted enough to cope.


The Hotel, or Pension as they are called here, was spotless and airy, our driver helpful as he tried to lift the 28kg case!. We sat out on the verandah chatting about this and that, the darkness hiding any details of the surroundings, before we retired to bed. Although incredibly tired, both Pape and I found it difficult to sleep. Thoughts raced through my head, random, jumbled, distracting, annoying. I began to silently chant until, at last, I fell asleep.,

We rose early to a breakfast that was delicious, fresh fruit platter, bread and jam, tea or coffee. The 28kg, now dragged by Pape, was manhandled onto a bus and by 7am we were sitting on the ferry crossing the twelve miles of water that separate Moorea from Tahiti.

The sky was grey, the air pleasantly cool. Pape complained about the cold, to me it was as warm as our summers on a balmy day. Jan, Pape's long time friend, met us at the terminal, more flower garlands were added to my neck, the 28kg was squeezed into the boot and the final leg was on.

We stopped briefly in the Drs to sort out the infection in my leg and bladder. Tropical bites and diseases can too easily turn nasty and must, I have learnt, be dealt with immediately. Airborne infections fill the moist air working their way in through any tiny break in the skin. Over here it is not a matter of 'letting the air get to it' but rather of covering even the tiniest of scratches immediately, and leaving it covered until it heals.

We dropped Jan at her place, picked up Pape's car, did a brief shop for fresh fruit and veg and came home. Overhead thick clouds gathered in the already overcast sky, the air temperature dropped further, the winds began to blow. I dragged the 28kgs down the small slope to my new home and opened the door.

The journey (for now) was over.

Wild in Tioman

One can get very close to nature while living on a small island.

Birds and bugs hang around our cabin.

The resident cat has moved onto our balcony.

Each evening as we walk to the bar large Monitor Lizards slowly amble across our path, taking swipes at passing motor bikes.

Enormous bats hang from the trees, fanning themselves as the heat bakes the air each day.

Thin green snakes slither through the branches over head while we lie on the beach, shaded from the mid-day sun in the shadow of the leaves.

Monkeys walk around the chalets looking for opportunities.



We have heard wonderful and exciting stories of the exploits and mischief these various animals can get up to, stories of missing bikini tops being thrown around in the upper reaches of trees while the owner can only watch, being the most frequent.


We sat quietly on the balcony two days ago, cat by our side, monkeys wandering in the distance. Out of curiosity I threw a small chunk of biscuit out onto the grass. A large dominant male approached cautiously. I threw another piece and grabbed the camera. What happened next will remain in my memory forever. As I circled the monkey to get Peter and the hut into the shot, the monkey began to turn away.

I called to Peter to throw another piece of biscuit which he did. As I took photos the large male decided he didn't like being fed bit by bit and made a huge jump onto our balcony table. Never have I seen a man, of such bulk, move so fast as Peter headed through our open door and shut it rapidly behind him!


Realising there were no biscuits on the table, our large male returned to the grass just outside the door, eyeing the doorway suspiciously every time Peter opened it a crack, while I laughed from the other side of the lawn.

Peter was eventually saved by the goat who, having broken his mooring, decided that if there was food involved he wanted some! The goat lowered his head and threateningly approached the male, who to his credit ambled off quietly. The goat then looked to the balcony, decided that it was well and truly deserted and left!

Peter emerged slowly, the cat resumed her place, I walked back across the lawn and normality returned!

Sea life although not quite as exciting, also has its moments. We booked a trip to Coral Island yesterday, a day of snorkelling out to sea exploring reefs other than our own. At the first stop we were told of a turtle that swam near the shore, usually near to the point. We entered the water and, without the aid of fins, began to swim against the strong current. We must have swum three times the distance to reach the point as the water tried to carried us in the opposite direction, but we were rewarded by the turtle as he fed on the coral beneath us. We stopped swimming and enjoyed the sea's ride back to the boat, observing the fish and coral as we went.

Our second stop was at Coral Garden, a place of magnificent beauty. Tall columns of table top coral, mounds of rippling brain coral, skeletal trees and circled fans shaped the sea floor. Dips, hollows, walls and spires, all lending themselves to become home for the thousands of fish who worked their way through their convoluting shapes. A sea snake, banded pale blue and black, about 6 foot long, worked his way between the crags, the flattened end of his tail propelling him through the water as he moved from place to place. I dove down marvelling at the detail of his scales, his skin exactly the same as the land snakes bred by Lisa, his yellow tipped head eyeing me as I watched him.

A huge Napoleon fish swam past, the large bulbous mound on his head looking like a battering ram. I swam beside him looking into his eye, for a moment he tolerated my presence before, with a flick of his tail, he shot into the distance.

Lunch was taken at Salang, the last beach on Tioman. I found the hammock I had been looking for, we dined on Magnum Ice cream, the first dairy to pass our lips in over a week and rested from our mornings exertions.

Our final stop was at Monkey Bay, the place we had failed to reach before. The tide was low leaving the coral close to the surface. We swam further out to sea, watching never ending shoals of fish stream past. Three more enormous Napoleon fish cruised in the depths, again I dove down the 10m to swim with them, again they left me standing as they moved into deeper water.

Back at the boat, our driver had produced some bread to encourage the fish nearer to the boat. He offered me a piece which I held in my hand as I sunk beneath the surface. Fish descended in their thousands, all nipping, all tearing at the small piece of bread. When the bread was gone they continued to nip at my fingers, my toes, the strings of my bikini. I laughed into my snorkel, nearly choking in the process! I surfaced for more bread and repeated the scenario. The water was thick with the bodies of fish as they brushed past me to swarm my hand, again they continued to nip gently once the food had gone, again the laughter threatened to overwhelm me.

We returned to ABC Beach tanned nicely, fed well and entertained to perfection. The hammock was strung across the balcony, cards were played as the sun sunk beneath the horizon. In 24 hours we were due to leave this wonderful place to return to Singapore. There was a shark trip happening tomorrow, maybe just one more day? One more day wouldn't hurt!!!



…..............................................
A quick foot note about the bar we all hang out in is worth a mention here.

Right at the far end of the beach, the opposite end to where we are staying, is a tiny bar on the side of the beach, called Hallo.



Christine has been there for 18 months, Ashh only three weeks. Each evening between the hours of 5pm and 7pm is Happy Hour.






It is also the time of the sunset and the most perfect place to watch it descend into the darkened depths of the sea. Soft Reggae music plays, occasionally chill-out sounds emit from the tiny laptop and speaker. Money is exchanged for shells, that are exchanged for drinks. People meet, information is exchanged, experiences shared, e-mails swapped, stories, told while we all relax together, the sand beneath our feet.



Christine also makes wonderful jewellery, some of which now adorn my ears. Personal pieces are made as she wiles away the day, each piece unique, each hand made.


Many of the sunsets have been breath-taking, the sky glowing gold, then red or pink. Reflections on the water, shadows of the trees, highlights picked up, contrasts defined, ever changing from one moment to the next. As darkness descends, Happy Hour over, we make our way back down the bay to our restaurant. There we are greeted by Safi, who has eagerly awaited our arrival. Drawings are drawn, games are played, numbers are practised but most of all, backgammon is destroyed!!



Today is Friday 10th September, the end of Ramadam. The shark trip never happened as not enough people wanted to go but the sun was hot and we spent the day lounging in the sea, playing cards in the shade and drinking in the bar as the sun set yet again. Today, as we sat on the balcony, the end of a storm depositing the last of its rain onto the ground, we checked our flight details. We had originally planned to return to Singapore for the last three days of our trip, this had been changed to two days but as I looked at my flight details, dates instead of days became the reality. For some reason I was convinced that I flew out on Sunday. The 11th I soon discovered was a Saturday. Tomorrow in fact!

There is nothing we can do today, save sit in the cool air, walk along the deserted beach, swim in the tranquil sea but tomorrow we must catch the first ferry out of here(7.30am) make our way through Malaysia, cross the border into Singapore and then make our way to the airport to catch a flight by 6pm!!

No more lazy days I fear. Mission on …..................... but not until the morning......!