Off to Redang

Flew to Redang this morning from sleepy Seletar Airport, which is rather charming now because of its age. It's also where rich people park their private jets, we were reminded, by the burgundy Rolls Royce ahead of us. As it pulled to a stop at the front doors, four customs officials (or airport workers, but they were wearing uniforms) ran to lift the Louis Vitton suitcases from the boot. No one got out of the car.

So that's how the other half live. Our half sat outside the front door while we waited to check in to our Berjaya Air flight. Among our fellow passengers was a group of three families travelling together. They had packets of chicken rice, which they scarfed while I looked on enviously. Is there any food which is more redolent of a day out than packed chicken rice?? The women and children ate while the men smoked.

Then we were called to check in. A minor holdup because J's diving knife did not please the bag checker, who insisted it go with the crew. Fine. And then we were off to wait for our plane, a 48-seater turboprop Dash or thingabob. It didn't look anything like the lean mean sleek machine which we waited for to land before we took off. Bet it was carrying LV bags. Ours spewed water vapour from the aircon vents but hey, it sure beats a 10-hour drive to Terengganu.

Flight left 11.50am. Beautiful views over Terengganu, particularly Lake Kenyir (at least, we figure it had to be Lake Kenyir). Finally at 1.30, we came in to land over Redang. Appealing views of the beaches and resorts as we came in for the landing.
The resort was five mins away by bus. We sat in the front like good kiasu Singaporeans, but of course the rush was unnecessary since our room was not ready. Resolved not to let the minor hitches get to us and just to enjoy the place.

And what a place. The hotel is nothing to write home about: room is spacious but cleanliness is suspect, particularly the smelly pillows; staff are friendly but not always clued in, but the beach. My god. Talcum powder sand, clean clear water. You walk out from the hotel and there is instantly fish everywhere. Tiny baby reef tips nuzzling at the sand, schools of spotted snapper (I am guessing); at least half a dozen kinds of fish and we are still on the hotel beach.

We blew up our dinghy and rowed out, though not before J and I had a beer each while the children paddled in the water. They are thrilled by the fish, though Isabel feels safer out of the dinghy than in.

We had dinner at the hotel's only restaurant, Palms, which we are to know well in the next few days, since there is nearly nowhere else to eat that the children don't object to!

In bed early. Feels good to be on vacation.