La Isla Bonita

The first song I heard on the beach in Seychelles was a Bob Marley song. 'Redemption Song' played on a little old school wireless from underneath a tree next to a local dreadlocked carpenter who was busy carving little island memorabilia pieces. As I walked along the beach, the waves were composing music of another effect. The more inland I walked, the louder a familiar melody was playing. I found my lunch spot under the shade of a song and a few palm trees. Madonna's "La Isla Bonita"; the beautiful island indeed. I sat there overlooking the turquoise waters, overwhelmed by the expectations met and thrilled about the arrival of a like-minded friend who agreed to join me in crossing off our very predictable island itinerary checklist. And for the next two days, I found myself smiling with a song in my heart, for one by one, little dreams were coming true. 

There is one thing that excites me so when arriving at a new destination in the hours of darkness: waking up to find an unexplored world around you. You feel transcended instead of transported; transparent, entranced - you're young.

You run out, keen to grasp as much of this transient dream as possible. 

And this is exactly how i'll remember this place. Green, green forests on hills that rise out of the sea; turquoise waters and rocks that remind me of smoother clay versions of sunken rhinoceroses.

The quiet island life is then interrupted only by actions serene enough to qualify as leisure. Some go canoeing, some collect seashells, others can't sit still and opt for taking hundreds of photographs to one day remember just how very relaxed they were on that day.

A kind and gentle landscape meets the sea. The shore gets washed with soft lace trimmings sweeping to and fro.   

I went left.

A picture of me and the sea. Blue and white, blue and white.

The simple pleasures: making small decisions that turn out to be good choices. And I sure relished in the fact that the colour of my nail varnish went so well with the powdery sand. And it was just a matter of time for my skin to take on Summer's glow. 

This charming little flower made me smile. 

My tree! (And most probably everyone's tree who walks by.) But for a couple of minutes it was my tree. Pure, uncomplicated joy.

I had to be really bored as kid to actually page through my mother's 'Garden and Home' magazines. So you can guess just how surprised I am that I always seem to end up including some plant in the equation of an album. But these are foreign plants. And one must record such details (either for future reference or for a classic background for some relative's desktop.)

Boat and sea. 

The seaweed bracelet made me feel all animated and mermaidy. But I felt like the bracelet gave me powers to chase away clouds. (It never rained that day. Too bad I threw the magical seaweed back into the turquoise water.) 

 "Tropical the island breeze.
All of nature wild and free.
This is where I long to be.
La isla bonita."

*t