Now that we were finally here, we decided to spend Friday exploring the town near our hotel and not to bother catching a ride up to Genting until tomorrow. The village we were staying in was called Mokut and it was prized for being the quieter side of the island where the pace was dialed right the way down to a slow crawl. This was wonderful to experience but there is no way I could live like that for too long without going crazy. However, for a holiday it was ideal.
Firstly we decided to rent some snorkeling gear and try and see some coral. I should point out that I cannot swim, and so I was merely trying to relax by coming to the island. However, seeing as this place was famous for the underwater activities, I felt that I had to give it a go. And so in a few hours there I was, snorkel gear on (minus the vest I should point out) trying desperately not to drown and making a right mess of it. While I had fun I quickly realised that this wasn’t the pastime for me and so I retired to a secluded cove that we had stumbled upon and proceeded to relax. Gorka however took great pride in informing me how beautiful the coral was out in the parts that I had no hope of venturing out into.
Eventually after a few hours we grew tired of the beach and decided to head back. At the hotel we spoke to the owner who told us that there was a waterfall a good 45 minutes to an hour hike from here but that it was definitely worth going to. So, having had our fill of the sea, we ventured into the jungle. Eventually (closer to 1 hour) we arrived at the waterfall and decided to take a dip. The water was freezing, but by this point we desperately needed it. Unsurprisingly we were the only ones there, and had not seen another living soul since the last village we passed a mile back. By the time we got back from the hike a snooze was in order followed by dinner at the hotel kitchen which we found out had been freshly caught fish of the day for the last week. It didn’t bother us though, as it was delicious. It was after dinner, once the sun set that we realised just how quiet this part of the island was as the whole place shut down. I like to think that it would not have made any difference to me as I was totally exhausted.
The next day, we took the dingy boat back to Genting so that Gorka could go diving. After my experience with Snorkeling, I decided not to bother with this so I quickly found myself with 4 hours to kill while he was underwater. I took this time to walk along the coast heading north and see how far I could get. Turns out, even though I walked for the better part of an hour, I still had not reached the next village. This island was larger than I realised. Eventually I reached an impasse in the form of massive rocks blocking my way. Taking this as the cue to head back I slowly meandered back passing several other remote resorts. By the time I got back to Genting, I had an hour left before Gorka was due to return, so I retired to the beach once again and lay in the shade watching the sun set.
By the time Gorka had returned the dingy boat captain was anxious to get back, as the water was getting choppier. It was on this return journey that I had my most infamous memory of the island. By the time we reached the Mokut village jetty, the light had gone and the water was black and choppy. Gorka was first to leave and got to the jetty, turned around and waited for me to jump off. I grabbed the aid rope and was getting ready to step off, when the waves pushed the boat back away from the Jetty. Since I was still holding on, I was plunged forward into the water. To say I was frightened would be an understatement. The only thing I could do was hold the rope and wait for the boat to come back closer to get back on it. Gorka at this point had grabbed hold of my bag to give me extra support which was greatly needed. Luckily I managed to find a footing in the concrete columns underwater and was able to get back onto the boat. My hands were shaking and I was petrified. However I had to try again. This time, I managed to get onto the jetty and I had to fight the sudden urge to kiss the solid floor. It’s not everyday that one faces their biggest fear, but I faced it that night and it made me realise something – I need to learn to swim!
That night, all I could think about was how close I came to drowning and knew that for the time being this would be the last island trip I would do. It also did not help that the next morning I would have to take the same boat again back to Genting for the ferry back to the mainland. I am not much of a religious man, but that night I prayed for calm waters in the morning.
