The slow pace of island life

The islands we visited last week

were fishing villages.

This is me standing at the crossroads in the middle of the island looking towards the sea;

a view that was replicated, whichever direction I looked at from that spot.

The simple homes - often built with coral stones -

usually had some kind of seating on the outside.

The sandy streets were narrow and traffic free - except for the odd motorbike.

There were many of these swings set up all around the island

the perfect place to sit and watch the waves roll in.

While the men worked on their boats

the women were often seen working together

on projects like these

weaving dried coconut fronds into thatching

their work often lined up along the streets where they are left to dry out completely.

We enjoyed walks along the lush greenery

leading as always, to the beach.

You would think that since we live so close to the sea

we would be a little sick of it.

But not so in our case. Some of us chose to even eat in the water

trying hard to keep the waves from splashing into the food.

We seemed to be on the beach to welcome in every day and to bid each day goodbye:

near-perfect ways to start and end the days.