Upon arising from our stuffy slumber, all six of us hit the water since we each got such a killer workout while sleeping through the sweat. Originally I planned on running the length of the beach (not Baywatch-style but a legitimate workout) but I couldn’t be bothered with such fascinations this morning so I swam instead. Thanks to the calm, expressionless water situated within Saracen Bay, I didn’t need to worry about swallowing/chugging mouthfuls of seawater as I cut an indeterminate path swerving this way and that without any sense of direction. I tapped the pier as the halfway mark before swimming my zigzagged path from which I came. The goal of a stay on the island is to relax and let go of all your worries while leaving them on the mainland. I would say I have accomplished this but in my own way as I can’t help myself from scurrying about in search of whatever may occupy my mind and body, whether that be snorkeling, walking the beach, or exploring some untouched path. After brunch where we said ‘adios’ to Diego (watch out Espanyol, here I come!), we hit the jungle to cross over to Robinson beach. We were given an estimation of forty minutes to get there and it felt every bit of that. The trek through the jungle was an adventure in itself as we progressed along the path that jockeyed between truth and mystery. When I say jungle, don’t think monkeys were howling from every side while snakes slithered across the path. The jungle had its fair share of unknown sounds but the cool factor came from feeling like we were one of the rare few that bothered to see what may lurk on the other side. Robinson beach felt very isolated with just a couple of bungalows while humans stood atop the endangered species list on this side of paradise. Robinson beach probably got its name from the Robinson Crusoe story and the theme definitely fit. The beach was golden white with more than enough room to lay out, which I eventually got to after the necessary exploration of the snorkeling zone just off shore along the rocky border that stretched out from the beach. Compared to the mini island off Koh Rong, I found a greater multitude and variety of fish here. The rough coral shells that seem to embrace the sea-bound boulders were not as bright and technicolor as before but I found enough interest and intrigue to get lost in whatever stood just beyond my mask. Although parrotfish are not exactly a rarity these days, I find them to be such a joy to follow as they sputter through the water with their otherworldly bright technicolor scales trying to find the next hard coral to graze on. With just the rocking of the waves as the only distraction, I get quickly absorbed into the world that stays seemingly calm. The fish were clearly aware of my presence as they scattered each time I skimmed across the surface or dove down in for a closer look so it turned into a constant game of cat and mouse. Upon emerging from the water, I was ready to finally rest and dare I say take a nap but before doing so I was made aware of the halo above us that had now ringed itself around the sun’s bursting light. Napping for the half hour or so was nice but again I had to get moving once more so I looked afar to those very boulders and rocks that I noticed earlier. In search of what I did not know just yet, I continued along anyways skipping across the rocks over the intermingling sea water that rushed through while I clenched my mountain man bamboo stick as my faithful steed. The bouldering was good as I swung my body this way and that and took dramatic leaps across the domed boulders. This obstacle course gave me that mountain high that was crowned by a view of the sun drifting slowly towards the horizon far away from the beach on my own isolated outcropping of rocks that stood sturdy above the sloshing water. I contemplated the idea of cutting into the forest but the jungle was so thick with trees it formed a firm, unquestionable divide between sea and untamed wildlife. I ran across the rocks like Tarzan as if every muscle and nerve in my body was born for such a pursuit. Before the grand finale of the sunset, the six of us played boules/pétanque/bocce (depending on your European roots) after I explained the rules of the game. The sun lurked behind the shadows of the clouds as it spread its full bloom of golden orange across the horizon. As time progressed and as the orb of the sun became less prominent, the colors altered into every shade of pink, red, purple, and orange, spinning a spectacle that only nature could form as an artist. As you might be able to guess, when the light of the sun disappears, darkness formed a fully clocked shadow with the moon assuming its role as the guardian of the night. We only had one torch (not the fiery kind as only Americans would expect but rather of the flashlight variety) manned by John so we had to share the light as we recrossed the path but in a much more death-defying way. I led the pack walking blindly with John as my one guiding light but without the moon I may still be trekking through the jungle lost. The light lingered behind but I continued on as the ever fleet-footed foe of the jungle with no branch, cuckoo, or hidden rocks holding me back. After passing the Jungle Party sign forking in another direction, I reached Saracen Bay at long last. After some more personally spiced and scorched chicken curry, I hit the silenced waters to explore the bioluminescent plankton that showed themselves upon the whisk of my fingers in their path. No matter your age, anyone’s imagination would run wild with such a glow at their fingertips as they draw their neon lit canvas from these tiny specks of light. Back at the bungalow chill-pad, we laid around on a circle of pillows chatting deep into the night (far later than each of us expected) with our voices and the slightest relaxed background music as the only sounds in existence as far as we were concerned. They found the fact that I am keeping a blog fascinating because of the obvious demands that such a dedication can require. Our voices slowly drifted to silence as we napped amidst the peaceful sound of nothingness before summoning the energy back to our bungalow.
‘Wats’ in Cambodia’?’ Day 141: Watch Your Step – You Never Know When You Will Be Swept Off Your Feet