I have told you about my home town, right in the side of blue turqoise sea, no?

Well, on my nearly finished days I was away, I had the chance to visit it for the first time. And did I see you crunching your forehead? Honey, I have never been there, but I know, the place will be a part of my heart.

After 8 hours of bus ride, a stop in the middle of nowhere at dawn, and then next 5 hours car ride, finally me and my beib, reached the place. The road was a little bit hilly, and the air was surely salty.

And our decision to stay in this place was obviously accurate.
“Have we arrived in Sabang yet?”
No dahling, we are in Bira. But it feels like it is.

And I saw the port. Oh boy, I always love the port. It is the gate to sail away, or else, a place to stay after a rough journey. And Bira has the finest one. Not the modern and sophisticated, butit has  shallow turqoise water and traditional ships that made you time travel into another dimension. Yes, I’m exagerrating here, but I just don’t know how to describe the way I love it.

We skipped a port for a while, and headed to the beach.

Despite of the sound of our “ooohhh aahhh ooohh.. beautiful..” I know we echoed this sentence within our heart “We are home, yes we are”. Nothing to argue about. Gradually bluish water, creamy white sand, rocks and corals and typical small beach village. A continuous friendly hello from the natives made me blend as a part of the community right away.

We had fun with the beach for sure. Swimming, taking pictures, sunbathing, trekking or just a plain gazing and daydreaming. Being adventurous, we went to the ship workshop. And I am not exageratting, but I feel like want to jump in the bussiness. Because I see this magnificent wooden ships. Ordered by expats from German and done hand made by Indonesian. They only need less than one year to finish them. Just add finishing furnish and they are ready to sail away. Isnt’ that amazing?

As we walked back to our little lodge by the main road that lead to Bira beach, I heard somebody is singing soflt “Nenek Moyangku seorang pelaut…”

Now, that is something to be proud of.

Or, is it just an imaginary voice inside my head?