You must be wondering how anybody should set out to a destination without the slightest clue about what to expect, right? Yeah, me too.
On my way to my hotel room, I find out from one of the hotel staff that Maldives is an island somewhere near India. Now that's very "helpful". I smile as I walk away and promise myself to get out in an hour's time to go see this sunny side of life.
I am the first to arrive at the poolside bar for dinner. I make my order of the seafood on offer and wait forever for my meal to be served. Meanwhile, I have a lot on my mind to process, this week having been one of the toughest in my new job and new life. I sip a glass of cold still water wondering how tomorrow would play out. My deep thoughts are cut short by a plate of giant prawns on my table. I am not a fun of seafood, yet this vividly conscious knowledge did not stop me from ordering giant prawns for dinner. The waiter obviously has to almost spoon-feed me because, man, these were not normal day prawns. I persevere through the meal and keep thinking how a plate of food could take my mind off the worries of life to worries of "what on our concrete earth am I munching in my dorn mouth?"
My colleagues, who join me shortly as soon as I'm done eating, are too excited about the seafood. I can understand the excitement because whoah, their platefuls look and taste heavenly. I silently murmur a lesson to self to always wait for those who understand the menu before I make my order. Okay Rose, snap out of it and say halo to two strangers joining the table. These guys are here from Seattle, US, for work. One of them, a handsome shy looking American, takes a seat next to me, and turns out to be a great conversationalist, and very funny too. I'm glad to learn that they too already had their dinner, which makes three of us on the table who have room in our mouths to chatter away and laugh out loud.
It's time to retire to bed, and I am sure I will not be up early enough the following day to join my colleagues to a nearby island for snorkeling. If it was scuba diving, I would have dragged myself out of bed and crawled to the island; but no, thank you; anyone who cares about not jerking up their organism, wouldn't go scuba diving and fly 38,000 ft later the very same day. Instead, I settle for a walk around the beach and a little feet in the sky stunt, all this while avoiding a jump into the tempting sea water.