Before long we could make out the little island of Mabul approaching. It appeared to be a mess of wooden huts, piers and jetties tumbling out over the ocean. Through the man-made facade the occasional beach could be seen, and trees further in. Our boat approached a wall of rickety looking wooden huts. We docked onto a jetty and got off, excited to see what was in store for us.
The island itself was very small, you could walk end to end in about 20 minutes.
Given the island’s diminutive surface area, the difference in qualities of resort was obvious. The eastern side was mainly fancy, idyllic resorts. Our rickety home stay was on the the western side, in some kind of tropical shanty town. I quickly came to love it all the same. The whole thing was built on stilts over the water. It was laid out in a square U shape. The closed end was made up of some hut-like staff areas, which lead to a foot wide wobbly gangplank leading onto dry land. The open edge looked out to a clear ocean dotted with some permanently moored long boats. We came to learn that these boats were inhabited by “sea gypsies”. Extending out from one arm was a small jetty and staging area accessed by a high, arching wooden bridge which creaked and wobbled when the wind picked up.
The decked central part of the homestay was where we ate and drank. The outer side consisted of the rooms. Once again Pat and I shared a twin room in an effort to economise. Our room was cheaply decorated, and featured a nice hole in the floor near one of the corners that looked straight down to the ocean. We put a chair in front of it to avoid accidentally falling in.
The island itself was very small, you could walk end to end in about 20 minutes.
Given the island’s diminutive surface area, the difference in qualities of resort was obvious. The eastern side was mainly fancy, idyllic resorts. Our rickety home stay was on the the western side, in some kind of tropical shanty town. I quickly came to love it all the same. The whole thing was built on stilts over the water. It was laid out in a square U shape. The closed end was made up of some hut-like staff areas, which lead to a foot wide wobbly gangplank leading onto dry land. The open edge looked out to a clear ocean dotted with some permanently moored long boats. We came to learn that these boats were inhabited by “sea gypsies”. Extending out from one arm was a small jetty and staging area accessed by a high, arching wooden bridge which creaked and wobbled when the wind picked up.
The decked central part of the homestay was where we ate and drank. The outer side consisted of the rooms. Once again Pat and I shared a twin room in an effort to economise. Our room was cheaply decorated, and featured a nice hole in the floor near one of the corners that looked straight down to the ocean. We put a chair in front of it to avoid accidentally falling in.
