Old travel photos from Pangkor Island, 2011.

Caught up in the fiery orange sunset sinking behind the island hills, we decided to do a traveler’s cliche routine: sitting by the water’s edge and letting the waves crash over us. Beautiful, uninhibited escapism from the hectic rush of everyday city life, letting nature wash gently over our bodies. Or so we thought. Proves once again that romanticism in novels and reality are two different realms. Not only were the waves so freaking powerful they knocked us back flat, having salt water pounded into our faces was not at all pleasant. Soon the beach was littered with a group of laughing,spluttering people, unable to get up from both the quick pounding of waves and from inability to stop guffawing. We crawled away from the edge like turtles going on shore to lay eggs and just laid on the warm sand.



They had these shiny black coats on, paired smartly with fluffy white trousers. Cocking their curved beaks, staring beadily with intelligent eyes, they seemed almost able to talk. A row of bird men all dressed up for dinner. 

One can’t help but leave behind a little piece of one’s self on this quaint little island.