Ryan and I at Attica...decide for yourself if the T-shirt (Ryan's) was apt
June 11, 2005
Lions go down to the Maori
The morning came far too soon but I made full use of the one useful facet of my hardcore hangover: I was only in a state to concentrate on one thing and, instead of doing something daft like going out in the bright sunshine, I stayed indoors in the air-conditioned cocoon of the condo and spent several hours adding more to the blog. During that time I managed to guzzle down about 3 litres of water and, by the time Ryan got his lazy ass out of bed, I was starting to feel human and (surprisingly) very hungry.
We headed down to a place called Chijmes, an imaginatively converted former convent and nunnery, where there were now several bars, pubs and restaurants. At Father Flannegans (Guess what? It was an Irish theme pub!) we found most of the usual suspects from the previous evening, a large screen and enticing menu…not to mention some of the cutest barmaids in recent memory. I scared Ryan and James a little by blasting through a full Irish breakfast and sausage ‘n’ mash in the same time it took them to eat their single meals…but explained that I still suspected I might have a tape worm and needed to keep my strength up.
After such a satisfactory start to proceedings, we were hugely disappointed to see the British Lions lose their first ever game to the New Zealand Maori. This was an ominous portent for the upcoming tests and seemed to confirm many of our fears that the squad lacked the experienced talent and leadership to overcome a formidable All Blacks team. The loss put the three of us in a crappy mood and we decided (probably rather fortunately for me, at least) that we didn’t feel like an all-day session and would conserve our energy for a long night on the dance-floor at Attica.
I blogged a little more that afternoon although the blissful embrace of sleep did manage to relieve me from the agonies of my hangover for at least one hour. By the evening – after a couple of visits to the local food court to eat my way through the pain – I was feeling ready for another night on the razz.
There were far fewer people around (after the night before, I wasn’t surprised!) and I had to put up with twenty minutes of horrendous live R&B at another quayside bar before we made the smart move and got to Attica early in time to claim a spot (so I thought!) on the dancefloor. What actually happened was that we staked a claim on a corner of the bar where Ryan assured me he’d have the best vantage point to see the talent as it entered. We then proceeded, in workmanlike fashion, to demolish a bottle or two of vodka while the place filled up. By the time Jim ‘Shaft’ Ryan came on I was well and truly wearing my dancin shoes (in my booze-addled little mind, at least) and tore up (probably quite literally!) the floor in my shiny new (white!!!) trainers. Lost in my own little world of music and vodka, I was completely oblivious to the fact that James (tired) and Ryan (pulled) had both disappeared and I eventually trudged out of the place with their friend Andy at chucking out time, sometime after 4. Without a tour guide, I had no idea of how to find a food court – but, fortunately, had Ryan’s address written down in my wallet and managed to get a taxi driver to take me back where Ryan let me in. Another stonking night out!
We headed down to a place called Chijmes, an imaginatively converted former convent and nunnery, where there were now several bars, pubs and restaurants. At Father Flannegans (Guess what? It was an Irish theme pub!) we found most of the usual suspects from the previous evening, a large screen and enticing menu…not to mention some of the cutest barmaids in recent memory. I scared Ryan and James a little by blasting through a full Irish breakfast and sausage ‘n’ mash in the same time it took them to eat their single meals…but explained that I still suspected I might have a tape worm and needed to keep my strength up.
After such a satisfactory start to proceedings, we were hugely disappointed to see the British Lions lose their first ever game to the New Zealand Maori. This was an ominous portent for the upcoming tests and seemed to confirm many of our fears that the squad lacked the experienced talent and leadership to overcome a formidable All Blacks team. The loss put the three of us in a crappy mood and we decided (probably rather fortunately for me, at least) that we didn’t feel like an all-day session and would conserve our energy for a long night on the dance-floor at Attica.
I blogged a little more that afternoon although the blissful embrace of sleep did manage to relieve me from the agonies of my hangover for at least one hour. By the evening – after a couple of visits to the local food court to eat my way through the pain – I was feeling ready for another night on the razz.
There were far fewer people around (after the night before, I wasn’t surprised!) and I had to put up with twenty minutes of horrendous live R&B at another quayside bar before we made the smart move and got to Attica early in time to claim a spot (so I thought!) on the dancefloor. What actually happened was that we staked a claim on a corner of the bar where Ryan assured me he’d have the best vantage point to see the talent as it entered. We then proceeded, in workmanlike fashion, to demolish a bottle or two of vodka while the place filled up. By the time Jim ‘Shaft’ Ryan came on I was well and truly wearing my dancin shoes (in my booze-addled little mind, at least) and tore up (probably quite literally!) the floor in my shiny new (white!!!) trainers. Lost in my own little world of music and vodka, I was completely oblivious to the fact that James (tired) and Ryan (pulled) had both disappeared and I eventually trudged out of the place with their friend Andy at chucking out time, sometime after 4. Without a tour guide, I had no idea of how to find a food court – but, fortunately, had Ryan’s address written down in my wallet and managed to get a taxi driver to take me back where Ryan let me in. Another stonking night out!
June 10, 2005
Singapore
Our train was an hour late into Singapore (mainly due to hold-ups on the Malaysian side and this is a Malaysian railway before anyone starts to question my faith in Singaporean efficiency) but Ryan’s smiling face was still waiting for me at the end of the platform and we didn’t have any trouble recognising each other, despite my tan and a mutual loss of hair. With him was his brother James who I’d met once at a birthday party Sophie had thrown for Ryan in Exeter. Due to the lateness, Ryan was keen to get back to his flat, where he was working from home and I ended up saying a very hurried and unemotional goodbye to Annie. In some respects it was probably a good thing as I still didn’t want to get too close to any of the ideas running riot in my head.
Ryan drove me and James in the ‘White Cloud’ (his name for the Toyota lease-car, on account of its colour and light, light steering) to the Funan IT Mall where I was hoping to hook up to some free wireless internet and start updating the blog with some of the 50,000 odd words I’d managed to write on the island. I also wanted to do a bit of gadget shopping (the only kind of shopping I like!) as my laptop was now in desperate need of a new keyboard and I wanted to take advantage of Singapore’s prices to get a few other bits and bobs.
First stop, of course, was the food court in the basement, where I treated myself to the ubiquitous local Chicken Rice and an extra portion of Pork Rice. These were ridiculously cheap and very, very tasty, washed down with lime juice, as recommended by James. I then disappeared upstairs to get some work done in MacDonalds of all places, while James went to get his hair cut. It was an extremely irritating couple of hours as I was unable to get any connection despite a strong signal and in the end, we met Ryan and went back to his extremely plush condo on the north-west side of the city.
The Anchorage is kitted out with a huge open-air pool, steam room, gym etc. and, most importantly for the likes of me, air-conditioning. I could already see why Ryan loved his ex-pat lifestyle here so much…and I’d barely broken the surface of the food scene and was yet to sample the nightlife. I was able to use Ryan’s broadband connection and my natty new 512MB flash-drive to start loading my blog up to the net and got a good couple of hours in before it was time to go out.
Both lads play for a local rugby outfit called The Bucks and tonight was the local Northern vs Southern hemisphere game. Ryan had a knee problem, preventing him from partaking so he and I were going to grab some fish-head curry at a local curry house before driving over to see James and the others playing. First, though, I was forced to go shopping for some trainers so that I’d be able to join the lads out clubbing that evening – my (now rather shabby) Tevas would definitely not cut the mustard and I didn’t want to miss out on what would surely be a big night. Unbelievably, I found a pair of ASICS in my size (Singapore really does cater to all shapes and sizes) and, although not what I’d consider ‘clubbing gear’ at home, they’d certainly do for the weekend.
Fish-head curry may not sound too appetising but I can assure you it is nothing but delicious and we ate our fill of the finest local Indian cuisine for a mere pittance. It was with a full belly and a fiery tongue that we headed over to the match – a dour affair (much pride at stake), ending in a narrow win for the North, much to Ryan’s pleasure.
We headed back to the flat and as I was showering and changing I began to get seriously worried about being out on the lash with the rugby lads after so long out of the fold. Would I hack the pace? Would I get sent home early in a taxi?
It turned out to be a brilliant night – I’d forgotten just how much fun it can be to get a lash on with the boys. The BQ bar on the quayside that was the main focus of the night’s entertainment was heaving and obviously an absolute mecca for the local ex-pat rugby crowd. We were dancing and singing on the bar as well as bar-diving and being ‘dentist-chaired’ by the skipper with his big, nasty bottle of spirits. I managed to remain upright and got involved in the action with this terrific bunch of lads – yet more confirmation of Ryan’s chosen lifestyle – and I think I made a few friends with my rousing rendition of Sweet Child o’ Mine complete with beer-bottle microphone and cock-rock histrionics on the bar/stage.
We eventually staggered round the corner to Attica – an extremely plush and well-thought-out club, where I found to my delight some excellent house and a half-decent crowd. More exciting, was the prospect of seeing Jim ‘Shaft’ Ryan playing the following night and I made sure that Ryan was planning on coming again the following day. Eventually, much the worse for wear, we tumbled into a taxi at around 3am…but instead of going home or grabbing a greasy kebab, we went to one of the city’s numerous 24hr food courts. Here Ryan introduced me to the delights of Chilli Ray and Baby Kylan (sp?)…absolutely bloody delicious and, again, dirt cheap!! What a city!!
Ryan drove me and James in the ‘White Cloud’ (his name for the Toyota lease-car, on account of its colour and light, light steering) to the Funan IT Mall where I was hoping to hook up to some free wireless internet and start updating the blog with some of the 50,000 odd words I’d managed to write on the island. I also wanted to do a bit of gadget shopping (the only kind of shopping I like!) as my laptop was now in desperate need of a new keyboard and I wanted to take advantage of Singapore’s prices to get a few other bits and bobs.
First stop, of course, was the food court in the basement, where I treated myself to the ubiquitous local Chicken Rice and an extra portion of Pork Rice. These were ridiculously cheap and very, very tasty, washed down with lime juice, as recommended by James. I then disappeared upstairs to get some work done in MacDonalds of all places, while James went to get his hair cut. It was an extremely irritating couple of hours as I was unable to get any connection despite a strong signal and in the end, we met Ryan and went back to his extremely plush condo on the north-west side of the city.
The Anchorage is kitted out with a huge open-air pool, steam room, gym etc. and, most importantly for the likes of me, air-conditioning. I could already see why Ryan loved his ex-pat lifestyle here so much…and I’d barely broken the surface of the food scene and was yet to sample the nightlife. I was able to use Ryan’s broadband connection and my natty new 512MB flash-drive to start loading my blog up to the net and got a good couple of hours in before it was time to go out.
Both lads play for a local rugby outfit called The Bucks and tonight was the local Northern vs Southern hemisphere game. Ryan had a knee problem, preventing him from partaking so he and I were going to grab some fish-head curry at a local curry house before driving over to see James and the others playing. First, though, I was forced to go shopping for some trainers so that I’d be able to join the lads out clubbing that evening – my (now rather shabby) Tevas would definitely not cut the mustard and I didn’t want to miss out on what would surely be a big night. Unbelievably, I found a pair of ASICS in my size (Singapore really does cater to all shapes and sizes) and, although not what I’d consider ‘clubbing gear’ at home, they’d certainly do for the weekend.
Fish-head curry may not sound too appetising but I can assure you it is nothing but delicious and we ate our fill of the finest local Indian cuisine for a mere pittance. It was with a full belly and a fiery tongue that we headed over to the match – a dour affair (much pride at stake), ending in a narrow win for the North, much to Ryan’s pleasure.
We headed back to the flat and as I was showering and changing I began to get seriously worried about being out on the lash with the rugby lads after so long out of the fold. Would I hack the pace? Would I get sent home early in a taxi?
It turned out to be a brilliant night – I’d forgotten just how much fun it can be to get a lash on with the boys. The BQ bar on the quayside that was the main focus of the night’s entertainment was heaving and obviously an absolute mecca for the local ex-pat rugby crowd. We were dancing and singing on the bar as well as bar-diving and being ‘dentist-chaired’ by the skipper with his big, nasty bottle of spirits. I managed to remain upright and got involved in the action with this terrific bunch of lads – yet more confirmation of Ryan’s chosen lifestyle – and I think I made a few friends with my rousing rendition of Sweet Child o’ Mine complete with beer-bottle microphone and cock-rock histrionics on the bar/stage.
We eventually staggered round the corner to Attica – an extremely plush and well-thought-out club, where I found to my delight some excellent house and a half-decent crowd. More exciting, was the prospect of seeing Jim ‘Shaft’ Ryan playing the following night and I made sure that Ryan was planning on coming again the following day. Eventually, much the worse for wear, we tumbled into a taxi at around 3am…but instead of going home or grabbing a greasy kebab, we went to one of the city’s numerous 24hr food courts. Here Ryan introduced me to the delights of Chilli Ray and Baby Kylan (sp?)…absolutely bloody delicious and, again, dirt cheap!! What a city!!
June 09, 2005
Train back to reality
The rude re-introduction to society had its compensations as we were able to drink beers, sleep in the dry comfort of air-conditioning and get out on our scuba dives. Each of the dive sites was so much more exciting than anything I’d seen in the Philippines – with the variety and abundance of fish and other marine life truly astounding. I was frustrated by the same old problem of using my air up far too quickly (there are some disadvantages to having a turbo-charged metabolism) but still saw my fair share of excitement, including a group of stunning, surreal Lion fish when we went to the Sugar Wreck dive site and all kinds of puffer and box fish with their comically cartoon faces at the T3 and Temple of the Sea sites. Claire and the rest of the staff at Sunlight (run by a young Anglo-Malay girl, called Sunny who studies at Edinburgh Uni during term-time!) proved to be remarkably knowledgeable and extremely adept at leading their charges around in total comfort.
Mango shakes and freezer-stored chocolate were some of the further compensations and I was surprised and pleased to bump into my mate Charlie (originally met at Serendipity Beach, Cambodia) for the third time on this trip. However, the highlight of the four days here came when Lan and Zimba picked us up in the boat and took us out with a picnic for a day of snorkelling and lazing around on a group of nearby uninhabited islands. They really are salt of the earth, these two and I’m thoroughly looking forward to staying in touch with them both.
All in all our little stay on Long Beach was the perfect preparation for the hustle and bustle of Singapore where we were heading next. On Wednesday, our final night, we got a little merry with our friends from Sunlight before going for more delicious, head-spinning shish to round off the evening.
We left on the speed boat the following afternoon and then had a few hours to kill in Krai before our train departed. We somehow contrived to find an excellent Chinese restaurant, where we were able to make use of sign language and our host’s limited English (better than my Mandarin, to be sure) to order a delicious steamed fish with rice and buy one last bottle of beer to share.
I was very aware that this was our last chance to enjoy each others company for, potentially, a very long time and I felt a little subdued at the thought. I knew it would be tough to say goodbye in the morning after our train had pulled into Singapore station and I could feel myself detaching as I tried to prepare for this. I’m sure Annie probably felt a little cut-off by my behaviour – especially as we’d become so close over the last two weeks. I was fully aware of the distance between our homes and didn’t want to start thinking (or worse!) talking about any fanciful notions while still caught up in the moment. Far better, I knew, to take a step back and think about stuff before blurting anything out. One thing I was certain of was that Annie and I would not fall out of touch so I didn’t perceive any pressure on the situation. I’m still not committing too much thought to it all, still thousands of miles from home and experiencing so much on a daily basis. We’ve been able to exchange a few e-mails between her forays into the depths of Indonesia and there’s certainly no lessening of our mutual affection. All I can say is that Annie really has come to mean an awful lot to me and I’m hoping that it won’t be so long before I see her again.
Mango shakes and freezer-stored chocolate were some of the further compensations and I was surprised and pleased to bump into my mate Charlie (originally met at Serendipity Beach, Cambodia) for the third time on this trip. However, the highlight of the four days here came when Lan and Zimba picked us up in the boat and took us out with a picnic for a day of snorkelling and lazing around on a group of nearby uninhabited islands. They really are salt of the earth, these two and I’m thoroughly looking forward to staying in touch with them both.
All in all our little stay on Long Beach was the perfect preparation for the hustle and bustle of Singapore where we were heading next. On Wednesday, our final night, we got a little merry with our friends from Sunlight before going for more delicious, head-spinning shish to round off the evening.
We left on the speed boat the following afternoon and then had a few hours to kill in Krai before our train departed. We somehow contrived to find an excellent Chinese restaurant, where we were able to make use of sign language and our host’s limited English (better than my Mandarin, to be sure) to order a delicious steamed fish with rice and buy one last bottle of beer to share.
I was very aware that this was our last chance to enjoy each others company for, potentially, a very long time and I felt a little subdued at the thought. I knew it would be tough to say goodbye in the morning after our train had pulled into Singapore station and I could feel myself detaching as I tried to prepare for this. I’m sure Annie probably felt a little cut-off by my behaviour – especially as we’d become so close over the last two weeks. I was fully aware of the distance between our homes and didn’t want to start thinking (or worse!) talking about any fanciful notions while still caught up in the moment. Far better, I knew, to take a step back and think about stuff before blurting anything out. One thing I was certain of was that Annie and I would not fall out of touch so I didn’t perceive any pressure on the situation. I’m still not committing too much thought to it all, still thousands of miles from home and experiencing so much on a daily basis. We’ve been able to exchange a few e-mails between her forays into the depths of Indonesia and there’s certainly no lessening of our mutual affection. All I can say is that Annie really has come to mean an awful lot to me and I’m hoping that it won’t be so long before I see her again.
June 06, 2005
Island Paradise
I can’t truly explain the utter bliss it was to spend 12 nights at Petani Beach Resort with Annie. It may have been the tranquil seclusion and unhurried, lazy days; it might have been the welcoming hospitality and superb cuisine of our host, Lan and his girlfriend Zimba; it could just have been the sheer variety of marine life to be found two minutes snorkel from our doorstep; or was it being in the company of this bright, intelligent, beautiful, passionate woman? All of this together still doesn’t come close – there was something else, another element that I can’t quite put my finger on…something which elevated this short, unplanned section of my trip into one of the absolute highlights of my 9 months. It sits right up alongside teaching in Nepal, seeing Angkor Wat and watching the sun rise over Everest. The interesting thing is that, much as I have loved to be alone and do my own thing, this was very much a shared experience and one that I know Annie enjoyed every bit as much as I.
Petani was a tiny secluded strip of white sand on the southern tip of Perhentian Kecil. We caught a boat-taxi out there from Long Beach on the morning after our arrival (we couldn’t wait to get away from the noisy bars and crowds of ignorant British tourists, sunbathing topless in this Muslim country) and, in fact, were fortunate to get ourselves booked in. Our boat-taxi had already zoomed off before Lan came running down the beach to say he was full but he very kindly agreed to put us up in the spare staff quarters until one of the other chalets became free. Of all the lucky strokes that have befallen me over the course of my trip, this may well have turned out to be the best.
There were just 5 chalets at the resort and, with no other restaurants or resorts within easy reach, I suspect a lot of potential residents are worried about needing a change of food or activity. Lan’s killer top trump is that he is an excellent chef, negating the need to eat anywhere else and I immediately fell in love with the isolated, relaxed atmosphere. Although they were busy for the first 3 days of our stay, there were never more than 2 other couples there afterwards and we really did get to feeling like the place was our own. This was really helped by the great rapport we developed with Lan and Zimba, who really did their best to make us feel at home. Zimba was always telling us of the best snorkelling spots and places to go for day-trips and Lan made an easy friend of a man with an insatiable appetite.
Something that might have helped to cement our friendship was the strange co-incidence that we’d bumped into each other on our travels before. I’d been talking to Lan about my adventures on the river in Vang Vieng in Laos and he mentioned that he’d also been there. The following day Zimba was asking some very pointed questions about the group I’d been with that day (the English and Irish guys who I had such a great giggle with) and the kind of sunglasses I’d been wearing as she suspected that she remembered me. When we compared the date in her diary to the dates on my photos, we realised that we’d been out on the river the same day…and I do indeed vaguely recollect talking to the only Asian guy there (Lan) and thinking how good his English was for a Laotian. Of course as a Malaysian who’d travelled all over the world and worked in England, it wasn’t surprising that Lan’s English was so good…and here we were, several months later, quite by chance staying at his secluded island beach resort in a country I’d never even intended on visiting. Cool, eh?
I had two main intentions for my time on the island: to get to know Annie and to make some serious inroads into my severely out-dated blog. With the peace and quiet and relaxed rhythm of the days, I found it easy to work in the mornings and play in the afternoons. As there was no power during the day, it was very easy for me to limit my writing by the battery-life of the laptop. It was a necessary task, which of course I really relished – particularly as I was writing mostly about my experiences with the children at Samata School. Annie was perfect, giving me space to do my thing and being the ideal exploring companion for the rest of the time.
We must have spent many, many hours floating around the reefs and coral gardens of Petani Bay and with good cause. Much as I had enjoyed my scuba experiences in the Philippines, I came to realise that the marine life there is not a patch on that of Pulau Perhentian. Just snorkelling within 100m of the chalet, we saw literally hundreds of species of beautiful, brightly-coloured tropical fish.
Evenings passed contentedly as we sat on the decking, watching the starlight on the sea and enjoying the cooling onshore breeze as we tucked into Lan’s delicious fare.
We also made a couple of memorable daytrips to the most idyllic, deserted strip of sand, Romantic Beach. In the lagoon here we saw a school of enormous, bump-head parrot fish as well as many blue-spotted rays and a black-tip reef shark. Back at Petani Annie even spotted us a baby octopus and we also saw a green-back turtle on another outing.
I think you’ll find most of my beach stints on this trip have not yielded a great deal for the blog – simply because the whole idea is to chill out and do very little. Other than the snorkelling, eating and writing, this is precisely what we did and, I have to tell you, I don’t know if there is another person in the world who could have spent all that time with me – virtually 24/7 – without wanting to kill me. Annie and I really did just seem to click so easily…and I’ve spent many hours since, mulling over the significance of such comfort and ease with a person after so short a time. It was a totally new experience for me and one I’m unlikely to forget in a hurry.
Suffice to say, we had a truly great time at Petani, making good friends of Lan and Zimba in the process and it was with heavy hearts that we returned to the ‘civilisation’ of Long Beach with its internet access, air-conditioning and scuba diving facilities.
We took an air-con room (for a last little bit of pampered comfort) at Moonlight, the sister facility to Sunlight Divers, where Annie completed her PADI Open Water certificate and we were to take a few dives together. This had all stemmed from her chance meeting with dive-instructor Claire on her boat over from the mainland. It was great that she’d got over her reservations on scuba diving (after an unfortunate incident at a diveschool in Ko Tao) as this was yet another experience we were able to share.
Petani was a tiny secluded strip of white sand on the southern tip of Perhentian Kecil. We caught a boat-taxi out there from Long Beach on the morning after our arrival (we couldn’t wait to get away from the noisy bars and crowds of ignorant British tourists, sunbathing topless in this Muslim country) and, in fact, were fortunate to get ourselves booked in. Our boat-taxi had already zoomed off before Lan came running down the beach to say he was full but he very kindly agreed to put us up in the spare staff quarters until one of the other chalets became free. Of all the lucky strokes that have befallen me over the course of my trip, this may well have turned out to be the best.
There were just 5 chalets at the resort and, with no other restaurants or resorts within easy reach, I suspect a lot of potential residents are worried about needing a change of food or activity. Lan’s killer top trump is that he is an excellent chef, negating the need to eat anywhere else and I immediately fell in love with the isolated, relaxed atmosphere. Although they were busy for the first 3 days of our stay, there were never more than 2 other couples there afterwards and we really did get to feeling like the place was our own. This was really helped by the great rapport we developed with Lan and Zimba, who really did their best to make us feel at home. Zimba was always telling us of the best snorkelling spots and places to go for day-trips and Lan made an easy friend of a man with an insatiable appetite.
Something that might have helped to cement our friendship was the strange co-incidence that we’d bumped into each other on our travels before. I’d been talking to Lan about my adventures on the river in Vang Vieng in Laos and he mentioned that he’d also been there. The following day Zimba was asking some very pointed questions about the group I’d been with that day (the English and Irish guys who I had such a great giggle with) and the kind of sunglasses I’d been wearing as she suspected that she remembered me. When we compared the date in her diary to the dates on my photos, we realised that we’d been out on the river the same day…and I do indeed vaguely recollect talking to the only Asian guy there (Lan) and thinking how good his English was for a Laotian. Of course as a Malaysian who’d travelled all over the world and worked in England, it wasn’t surprising that Lan’s English was so good…and here we were, several months later, quite by chance staying at his secluded island beach resort in a country I’d never even intended on visiting. Cool, eh?
I had two main intentions for my time on the island: to get to know Annie and to make some serious inroads into my severely out-dated blog. With the peace and quiet and relaxed rhythm of the days, I found it easy to work in the mornings and play in the afternoons. As there was no power during the day, it was very easy for me to limit my writing by the battery-life of the laptop. It was a necessary task, which of course I really relished – particularly as I was writing mostly about my experiences with the children at Samata School. Annie was perfect, giving me space to do my thing and being the ideal exploring companion for the rest of the time.
We must have spent many, many hours floating around the reefs and coral gardens of Petani Bay and with good cause. Much as I had enjoyed my scuba experiences in the Philippines, I came to realise that the marine life there is not a patch on that of Pulau Perhentian. Just snorkelling within 100m of the chalet, we saw literally hundreds of species of beautiful, brightly-coloured tropical fish.
Evenings passed contentedly as we sat on the decking, watching the starlight on the sea and enjoying the cooling onshore breeze as we tucked into Lan’s delicious fare.
We also made a couple of memorable daytrips to the most idyllic, deserted strip of sand, Romantic Beach. In the lagoon here we saw a school of enormous, bump-head parrot fish as well as many blue-spotted rays and a black-tip reef shark. Back at Petani Annie even spotted us a baby octopus and we also saw a green-back turtle on another outing.
I think you’ll find most of my beach stints on this trip have not yielded a great deal for the blog – simply because the whole idea is to chill out and do very little. Other than the snorkelling, eating and writing, this is precisely what we did and, I have to tell you, I don’t know if there is another person in the world who could have spent all that time with me – virtually 24/7 – without wanting to kill me. Annie and I really did just seem to click so easily…and I’ve spent many hours since, mulling over the significance of such comfort and ease with a person after so short a time. It was a totally new experience for me and one I’m unlikely to forget in a hurry.
Suffice to say, we had a truly great time at Petani, making good friends of Lan and Zimba in the process and it was with heavy hearts that we returned to the ‘civilisation’ of Long Beach with its internet access, air-conditioning and scuba diving facilities.
We took an air-con room (for a last little bit of pampered comfort) at Moonlight, the sister facility to Sunlight Divers, where Annie completed her PADI Open Water certificate and we were to take a few dives together. This had all stemmed from her chance meeting with dive-instructor Claire on her boat over from the mainland. It was great that she’d got over her reservations on scuba diving (after an unfortunate incident at a diveschool in Ko Tao) as this was yet another experience we were able to share.
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