behind them, the countryside became more hilly and jungle-covered, and the plantations less frequent. Huge logging trucks, piled with massive tree trunks, replaced the oil palm and rubber collectors. Tall creeper-draped trees towered above them, often touching across the road. Tim drove through pools of jungle light and darkness, and wound up and down steep hills.
The countryside opened out as they approached Mersing. They began to pass villages and dirt roads that led down to the coast. Colourful plantation workers sat on rickety bush platforms and sheltered from the sun while they waited for transport, either back down to their villages or along the main road into town. Houses and gardens began to line the road, first wooden huts and then more substantial buildings with schools and mosques. They pulled into Mersing and went straight to the jetty. It looked busy in the laid-back East Coast way, people everywhere, nobody hurrying, and boats to spare. Tim dumped Sherry and their bags, and went to park the car.
A leisurely negotiation with a fisherman and his mate, and they clambered down from the concrete jetty to a small blue fishing boat. The trip to Pulau Kelapa would take over an hour. Tim pulled his old straw hat firmly over his brow and settled on the deck in front of the wheelhouse. Sherry stood beside him, rubbing sun cream onto her arms and legs. She did not seem to notice her short cotton dress riding high as she smoothed the cream into her thighs. The captain did, and the short, leathery sailor glanced at Tim and exchanged a grin. If only you knew, thought Tim, how disappointed you would be. Finally Sherry put on a cap and sunglasses, pulled a book from her bag and settled her elegant self beside him.
The boat chugged clear of the jetty, weaved between moored boats and settled down to a steady throb as it headed out to sea. The sea wind picked up and gave them some relief from the sun, and slowly the brown water of the estuary gave way to deep blue sea. Tim dozed.
He woke to a dig in the ribs from Sherry’s elbow. “Look!” she whispered. Beside them, riding the bow wave, was a dolphin. So near, two or three metres away and almost at deck level, seeming to watch them with its knowing eye. They crawled to the low rail and rested there, their chins on their hands. The dolphin played, still smiling.
Pulau Kelapa was Tim’s kind of place. Not a large island, only three kilometers from end to end and less than one across, it turned its rocky back to the South China Sea. On the western side facing the mainland, lay a strip of flat ground, covered in jungle and the remains of an informal coconut plantation. Here, under the trees and with the beach only metres away, a clever businessman had built the first resort of the Mersing area. Perhaps built was too grand a word. A collection of small shacks spread along the beach and clustered around the restaurant, and that was no more than a large roof covering a raised floor. A kitchen, a small office and a bar crowded together under one edge of the roof, and the rest had tables around a dancing area. Comfortable armchairs sat off to one side, with a bookshelf of dog-eared leftovers.
They checked in with a smiling girl at the office and carried their bags and key off to their hut. It was no more than a verandah and single room on low stilts, twin beds, ceiling fan, shower and toilet at ground level at the back. Simplicity and sufficiency, what more could you need? Tim stripped off his clothes and put on his swimming shorts. He waited on the verandah for Sherry. She emerged wearing a shy smile and a tiny black bikini, held together with strings tied in bows at each hip. The sexy creation shocked Tim. “Wow, Sherry! That’s fantastic! Where did you find that?”
“You like it?” she asked twirling round for him. She found herself enjoying his simple admiration. She would certainly not tell him that it had come from the boutique in the Shangri La Hotel. Or that it
The countryside opened out as they approached Mersing. They began to pass villages and dirt roads that led down to the coast. Colourful plantation workers sat on rickety bush platforms and sheltered from the sun while they waited for transport, either back down to their villages or along the main road into town. Houses and gardens began to line the road, first wooden huts and then more substantial buildings with schools and mosques. They pulled into Mersing and went straight to the jetty. It looked busy in the laid-back East Coast way, people everywhere, nobody hurrying, and boats to spare. Tim dumped Sherry and their bags, and went to park the car.
A leisurely negotiation with a fisherman and his mate, and they clambered down from the concrete jetty to a small blue fishing boat. The trip to Pulau Kelapa would take over an hour. Tim pulled his old straw hat firmly over his brow and settled on the deck in front of the wheelhouse. Sherry stood beside him, rubbing sun cream onto her arms and legs. She did not seem to notice her short cotton dress riding high as she smoothed the cream into her thighs. The captain did, and the short, leathery sailor glanced at Tim and exchanged a grin. If only you knew, thought Tim, how disappointed you would be. Finally Sherry put on a cap and sunglasses, pulled a book from her bag and settled her elegant self beside him.
The boat chugged clear of the jetty, weaved between moored boats and settled down to a steady throb as it headed out to sea. The sea wind picked up and gave them some relief from the sun, and slowly the brown water of the estuary gave way to deep blue sea. Tim dozed.
He woke to a dig in the ribs from Sherry’s elbow. “Look!” she whispered. Beside them, riding the bow wave, was a dolphin. So near, two or three metres away and almost at deck level, seeming to watch them with its knowing eye. They crawled to the low rail and rested there, their chins on their hands. The dolphin played, still smiling.
Pulau Kelapa was Tim’s kind of place. Not a large island, only three kilometers from end to end and less than one across, it turned its rocky back to the South China Sea. On the western side facing the mainland, lay a strip of flat ground, covered in jungle and the remains of an informal coconut plantation. Here, under the trees and with the beach only metres away, a clever businessman had built the first resort of the Mersing area. Perhaps built was too grand a word. A collection of small shacks spread along the beach and clustered around the restaurant, and that was no more than a large roof covering a raised floor. A kitchen, a small office and a bar crowded together under one edge of the roof, and the rest had tables around a dancing area. Comfortable armchairs sat off to one side, with a bookshelf of dog-eared leftovers.
They checked in with a smiling girl at the office and carried their bags and key off to their hut. It was no more than a verandah and single room on low stilts, twin beds, ceiling fan, shower and toilet at ground level at the back. Simplicity and sufficiency, what more could you need? Tim stripped off his clothes and put on his swimming shorts. He waited on the verandah for Sherry. She emerged wearing a shy smile and a tiny black bikini, held together with strings tied in bows at each hip. The sexy creation shocked Tim. “Wow, Sherry! That’s fantastic! Where did you find that?”
“You like it?” she asked twirling round for him. She found herself enjoying his simple admiration. She would certainly not tell him that it had come from the boutique in the Shangri La Hotel. Or that it
Similar Books
