words from the world

No sooner said than done, I pack my bag and leave to try my luck on the east coast of the Malaysian peninsular. According to the weather forecasts, it should be fine – or not rain at least. The choice of the islands is quite large and I opt for Pulau Redang, not really an island for backpackers since to get there we must book a package in advance which includes nights and submarine activities. The harbour is rather chaotic. Each resort has its own boat or subcontracts this part to another resort and without a guide it would have been hard to find my way by myself. The journey lasts one hour when I swap the shuttle-boat for a small one, about a hundred meters from the shore.
I take off my shoes and land on a barren beach. A strip of sand a series of bungalows are laid on and surrounded by a thick forest of coconut trees. It's off-season which accentuates the Robinson Crusoe of my arrival. This narrow strand of sand gathers everything I like, walking alone one a remote beach, scaling on the rocks where monkeys took up residence, sitting down and listening to the rumble of the water or turning over the sand to look for shells. I entertain a certain conception of happiness.



















To complete this peaceful life, the day is made up of 2 or 3 dives to enjoy the pleasure of the underwater landscapes. And the most difficult thing when I flounder into the water is to see my pressure gauge invariably going down and realize kicking up is inevitable because I don't have air in the tank any more.