Mornings meant waking early to a view of the sunrise and treetops through the open screen window of our cottage. Followed by quiet time on the beach for lots of easy reading. Floating around the bay with a snorkel before coming back to sit in the shade on the shore again. Watching the number of people on the beach slowly collect over the day from a few loners, to many regulars chatting socially, and occasional boatloads of tourists, and well-behaved dogs.
The heat and humidity were relentless. I remember a lot of hot walks to get around in the pounding sunshine, taking in the landscape that was a surprising desert-rainforest hybrid. As one local said, it took him a month for his body to adjust to stop sweating constantly, after he first moved to the area. Since I was staying in eco tent-cottages without air conditioning, water was my only respite: dips in the beach, breezy boat rides on the ferry, quick showers.
Evenings often found me sitting at a makeshift bar on the beach for a pina colada or bushwacker or cold beer or three, talking with old hippies, taking in the sunset over the water, trying to fend off mosquitos, and eventually admitting defeat to the bugs and heading back to camp, with a headlamp to guide the dark walk through the woods.
Night fell earlier there because of latitude, so it was early to bed and early to rise, lulled to sleep by the chirping music of birds and insects in the surrounded forest. The downside to no air conditioning was restlessness at night as I itched from bug bites collected over the day without cool air to soothe my skin. Despite the nightly discomfort, I still felt it was worth it for the totally unique experience of the campground. To be continued...