The cave man & the lagoon
Day 6
Morning - time for my daily dump behind a tree.
We knew today would be chill. The long drive back down the mountain was rough, but we would end up on another beach, Detwah Lagoon to be exact. It’s another UNESCO World Heritage site and an obvious reason why. Both the color of the sand and the hues of the water may put the Maldives to shame. Maybe.
Heading down out of the high elevation brought us to an overlook. With a giant dragon blood tree looming over the edge, we posed underneath with an expansive canyon in front of us. Another one of those places that make you and your problems feel really small.
On the way there, we stopped by the site of a once guarded military site. The Russians had provided tanks to help protect the beaches of Socotra. They still remain there, rusted and haunted. We were able to climb up and in them if we wanted. I love some historical learning opportunities but there wasn’t much to write home about. Probably a good thing for the island’s sake.
One more stop before we made our way down to the lagoon and that was a lookout point not to be missed. We walked up to the top of a jagged rock that overlooks the lagoon and ocean. Probably one of my favorite photos/videos I’ve taken the entire trip. I’ve never seen anything like it. Then we headed down to our site.
We started out under our thatch roofed structure with the sun beaming through, playing cards. There weren’t many days where we weren’t immediately swept away by car to a hike. A few naps were taken here and there.
Becky and I put on our suits and took a walk across the lagoon, the tide already out leaving small crab holes at every step. We wore protection on our feet as suggested by Adham, Becky in cute flip flops and me in my Teva’s trying to make them look cool. Didn’t work.
Once we made it to the other side of the lagoon, a stickier walk through a few inches of water and soft sand than we expected, we were met with a cast of crabs. I had to google it but that’s what a group of crabs is called – the more you know. They’re funny creatures, aren’t they.
The water was warm, the waves were soft, the color was unbelievable. We spent too much time watching the crabs scamper before we headed back to camp.
The boys decided to take the car and drive out onto the sand dunes between the ocean and lagoon before the tide brought the waters back in. Karen was resting. Becky and I did a workout.
By now the sun was setting. The boys were back and they spotted some locals playing soccer on the beach. All three of the boys played soccer, either for fun, in college or professionally. This was their time to shine. They went over to the group and fit right in – sort of. Zero injuries were reported so it was a win.
Becky, Karen and I took a walk over to the soccer game to watch. There’s something very uniting about soccer. They call it the beautiful game for a reason and you don’t need to speak the language to participate. Not sure many other travelers to the island have taken the initiative to join the group, but that’s only an assumption. The few groups we saw weren’t exactly...friendly.
Back at camp it was time for dinner. We noticed this site had a shower! Sort of. It was a pipe sticking out of the ground and a makeshift shower head. It’s the first time we had a decent shower option all trip so we took advantage of the fresh water, regardless of the low water pressure.
Dinner was served and we needed some music. We were a bit restricted with the music we could listen to as Spotify wasn’t functioning on the island, regardless of downloads, so we had to resort to whatever we had on iTunes. The last time I used iTunes and Apple music was maybe college so that’ll tell you how updated my playlists were. However, I had great taste in music back then (still do), so we rocked out to Kings of Leon, Adele, Basshunter and Neon Trees to name a few. Jokes...but also, classics.
We called in a night, preparing for our last day. It was going to be a busy one again but we were glad it be to send this trip off on a high note.
Day 7
I peeked my head out of the tent door with my camera ready. The yellow skies beyond the mountains in the distance created an unforgettable view. I’m pretty sure a bird flew through perfectly in my view as I recorded the scene.
We gathered at the family table for breakfast. Scrambled eggs, al tawa bread with peanut butter, beans, coffee and tea. Pack it up, move it out.
Today we were going to use a different mode of transportation for part of the trip. The cars drove us into the nearest fishing town called Qalansiyeh. There were hundreds of people there – fishermen, locals, children. It was a bit overwhelming but we were to find our boat and captain. We do and clumsily jump on board as the wave crash against the hull. It’s not a pretty sight but we all manage aboard and off we go. We’re not quite sure where that is but we’re out to sea and off the island so it’s a new feeling.
The ride was spectacular, flying past the cliffs and mountain ranges we were used to seeing from the other side. I felt so tiny. The small boat would come around a peak and present a massive wall of crag that overhangs above the crashing ocean. Around a few more bends and we overlooked a bay that, almost on cue, we saw a pod of dolphins swimming
together and breaching the surface. Adham said there are a lot of dolphins swimming in these waters and most of them find a playground in the wake of the boats. We weren’t the only people out there at the time and could see them circling nonstop to get the view we just had.
We chose to avoid the crowd and continued on to our destination, Shuab Beach.
The beach we found ourselves on was secluded. The boat brought right to shore then anchored out a few meters while we spent a few hours on the sand. There wasn’t much to do there besides lie in the sun and swim. Adham packed a few snacks and we just…existed. If we had working phones, we’d be scrolling social media, checking emails, texting with friends and family. Instead, we were each other’s family. I don’t know if my mental health was ever as clear, my stress ever as low. It’s amazing to think what we really only need to survive, though none of us would necessarily choose to give up the lifestyle we’re used to. It’s just nice to be reminded, sometimes, that there’s more than just…more.
After a few hours, our time was up and we needed to head back. We piled back into the boat and back to shore.
The cars were waiting. We still had one more stop for the day. Lunch was to be served by the “Cave Man” named Ellai.
A literal man who was born and raised in a cave near our campsite. We walked to his home and were invited in to sit and be his guests. I’m not sure what you initially pictured in your head when I said a cave man living in a literal cave, but it was likely spot on. He was the nicest person in the world and while he didn’t speak much English, he was sincerely happy to be alive. He caught and cooked us fish, crabs, scallops, muscles and rice. He told us some stories about other visitors and his history in the cave, then we all went for a walk. The tide was starting to come back in which left a perfect environment for sea life to come out and play.
He manhandled every living creature that came across his path: a sea cucumber, a puffer fish, a crab, fish eggs under a rock.
To be fair, we all sort of figured this was a bit of a skit. He was paid by the crews for hosting their groups and to show them a good time. We also found out he was married with children and had a house back in one of the towns. However, he truly was born in the cave and was raised there. That part was 100% true. Wild.
We headed back to camp, sunburned from wading in the water under the hot sun. Becky found the cooks making our dinner and some snacks and asked if she could help. They were a bit shy about it, but she got right in there and started wrapping these delicious cream puff things they made for us for snacks. That night we had fries and chicken – possibly the most American meal.
Becky and I took a walk down the beach towards the dunes. This may have been one of my favorite walks because of the way the colors around us made me feel. The sand was white and glowing in the setting sun. The sky was hazy with purples, pinks and blue. It felt like being wrapped in warm silk. The sun went down and we rejoined the rest of the group for dinner.
It was our last night on the island. None of us really wanted to go to sleep. We ate a great final dinner and sat around the campfire. As we stared into the inferno,
from the corner of our eye we saw one of the cooks, Ramsey, dragging a HUGE tree branch. His thin frame and unassuming muscle mass made the scene hilarious as he dumped it directly on top of the fire. There was absolutely zero need to make the fire that huge but we all couldn’t stop laughing. (also, apologies for the cringey video voice)
Considering the fire was now equipped to last for a few days, we got the tunes going. The crew also had their local favorites to play in the car rides (over and over and over again…) and during the numerous random dance parties throughout the day. All of a sudden it was blasting out of the car speakers and we had the crews of the neighboring groups joining our campsite to see what the fun was all about again.
When I tell you our guys danced their asses off, I’m not sure it was because they were feeling the groove or if they knew it was their last night having to deal with us. We each took turns dancing in circles around the fire, watching the crews show off their moves and pull us in randomly to participate. Our crew lost their minds, in a good way. Ramsey dressed up in a rice sack and used a stick as a baton and threw it around for a while. Again, we couldn’t stop laughing at the absolute hilarity these men were. I always wish I could speak whatever language I’m confronted with, but I think in that moment to be able to express my excitement to them in Arabic would have been the only thing to make it better.
Keep in mind, the island is a dry state. There is no alcohol or drugs so this is all human nature coming out. If I were sitting in the office listening to clients drone on and on or was watching the news, I’d likely comment how much I hate people. Here, it was the opposite. It’s a very humbling thing to be in such a vulnerable situation with people of a different culture and language than you and rely on their kindness to literally survive. I like to think that if more people were able to travel like this, the world would be in a much better place.
Finally, the party wound down and it was time for bed. We found our tents and off to slumber. My feet hurt from dancing, the stomach was full from final family dinner, our hearts were full but also sad to leave the people we made family that week.
Let me get on my soapbox for a moment
If you aren’t leaving somewhere with new connections, new people to know, new knowledge of a place different from yours, you’re doing it wrong. If you can’t say, “this one night we met a guy who owned a surf shop and invited us in for drinks after bar close”, or “we met this group of people from [insert country here] who invited us to stay with them whenever we come visit”, or “we started a group chat to stay connected and plan another trip”. I can’t remember a trip I’ve taken where this hasn’t happened in one form or another. I’m not saying don’t enjoy a trip secluded on your own or with your partner, but I would think that simply interacting with the hotel staff or a local guiding an excursion can still bring you a new perspective on another part of the world you didn’t have before. Hopefully for the better.
It was a bittersweet final night but we made the most of it. Laying our heads down one last time in our tents, I think we were all grateful for the opportunity to have experienced this trip, these people, this landscape. This is, to this day and likely for the rest of my life, the most unique and most asked about trip I’ve ever taken.
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