Ngapali Beach

Five wonderful days of non cultural pursuits.People do not go to this beachside paradise for any other reason than a hedonistic holiday at the seaside.The place once was a delightful fishing village on the Bay of Bengal,the gentle unthreatening Arabian sea rolls in,the waves crash on to the beach with a regular and monotonous white noise, soporific in effect.It is now being developed as a primary resort area for well heeled western tourists.The beach is immaculate,the water warm and a complete absence of undertows,rips and strong tidal movement make it ideal for swimming.For a few dollars a boat will take you out for snorkeling and sightseeing,it ain't the Great Barrier Reef,but there are tropical fish and a diversity of coral,and not a sight or sound of jet skis and power boats.

Mostly my friends Tony and Anna Christina and I would lie on our sun beds,occasionally swim,read,drink cold beer,snooze and discuss which of the myriad seafood restaurants we would eat at and whether it would be crab,king prawns,lobster,Barracuda,Red Snapper,White Snapper,Mackerel or huge freshwater yabbies,all freshly caught.In curry or chilly or garlic or sweet and sour or tempura.........Indeed sometimes this decision making just became too hard and we would order a selection and share.All good things must come to an end and I am now in a Yangon hotel with a power cut in progress,envying my Swedish friends who have to suffer life at Ngapali for another week.

My flight out was similar to the flight in ie 3 to 4 hours late,no explanations or apologies,one just waits at a tiny rudimentary airport and waits for a plane to turn up,in fact boats,buses planes and pickup trucks all operate on Myanmar time.

Take your pick.

Anna Christina and Tony.

Beach Ladies with fruit.

Lady on the beach.

Local Fishermen.

Early morning at the village.

Our own desert island.

Our boatman.

The Village.

Young local people.