Myanmar - Of Tranquil Beaches

 

Our approach to Thandwe Airport seemed uncomfortably long and extremely low.  The Bay of Bengal gently unveiled her crystal-clear waters. I was not appreciating the romantic slant to this welcome. I dug my fingers deeper into my seat. On short finals, the plane cleared the fence signifying the start of the runway. With a lifetime of flying under my belt, this seemed to be a touch too low for comfort. I’m not comfortable seeing the colours of people’s bathing suits from the air.

Kneading my toes deeper into the soft sand of Ngapali Beach, dispersed any anxiety I may have experienced during the flight. The warmth of the golden sand supported my presence. The gently tumbling clouds presented nature’s own palette of colours. Each one subtly blending into the next. Dancing amidst the setting sun and falling raindrops. We were mesmerised by the scene to which we now belonged. We chilled the bottle of South African Nederburg Premiere Cuvee Brut in a rock pool and observed the abundance of gold and red hues filling the sky. An unforgettable celebration of my 60th birthday.

Ngapali Beach, situated on the western side of Myanmar, in the Rakhine State, was as exquisite as believed to be. An impressive mountain range forms a divide between this slice of paradise and the rest of the country. Seven kilometres of fine sand, dotted by coconut palm trees, lay in absolute splendour. The warm transparent waters offered a unique gentleness. Untouched by the rest of the world. It was hard to believe, not too far away, that hideous atrocities were taking place. Survivors were fleeing across the border into Bangladesh.  It is believed that almost 745 000 people found safety in Cox Bazaar, Bangladesh. The world’s largest refugee camp.

The horror of the situation was unnerving as it played havoc with my thoughts. Sending shivers down my spine and tears to my eyes. Debbie and I sat in silence for hours. Appreciating the peace and the safety that we, for that period, were blessed with.

Our deliciously lazy days were spent wandering along the pristine beach. Stopping to chat to local children. Buying cold beer from a makeshift stall. Watching mothers playing with their young ones. Long after the sun had bid farewell. There existed a tangible sense of serenity and fulfilment. Simplicity. Many a time, I would sit at the water’s edge and allow myself to be caressed by the water. To be healed and nurtured by the coolness of one of nature’s greatest forces. The ocean.

The ocean provided for the needs of the local population. For their entertainment and for their livelihood. Fishing was the order of the day. A most unique experience was watching the local fishermen, dressed in traditional longgis, casting their nets into shallow waters in such a manner that the nets danced gracefully above the surface before sinking below. It appeared to be such a willowy act. One devoid of stress. Both the fishermen and their nets danced to the tune of the ocean. Dinners of mouth-watering shrimps, prawns and everything seafood beckoned us each evening. The prices for such delicacies were ridiculously low. We laughed with the fishermen who caught the fish by day and would share evenings with their wives, those responsible for the cooking of the catch, in simple restaurants along the beach.

After-dinner wanders revealed yet more of Mother Nature’s enchanting gifts. Extraordinary artwork, created by minute creatures, was displayed across the beach. Yet another reminder of being surrounded and supported by wonders of the natural world.

To be continued …