Fate

Retracing your steps is a perilous pastime, often in reviewing the route once taken, you meet disappointment as a fellow traveller and things aren’t as wonderful as you remembered. Occasionally, you find that memories are deceptive; leading you into a world where imagination has placed a significant role, rewriting your history with a sure, steady hand. But sometimes, just sometimes, you find delight as you realise that the past has been bettered, the present becomes superimposed over what once was and it is amazing.
Wandering down the winding, sun dappled path that led (and still leads!) to Coco Shambhala, I walked in the shadow of my own footsteps, recalling the awe of the first viewing. This time though, I dropped my suitcase. I tried to ignore the ominous tinkle of broken glass (not the 50ml of Hypnotic Poison please!) and drank in my surroundings. The gardens had sprung to life in our absence, palms towered above us sheltering a chorus of squawking parrots, fragrant frangipani dipped gracefully towards the pool and riotous blooms of bougainvillea tumbled over walls. I was stood in our very own secret garden; already the children had discovered shady hiding places and alcoves for quiet meditation (not so quiet once discovered by the terrible trio!) We were the last guests of the season and I appreciated the opportunity of having this little slice of paradise to ourselves.
Inside, the houses were gorgeous. Antique furniture and unique pieces of art added interest and imagination to the interiors. I recall sitting down on the exquisite, hand finished bed in the master bedroom and grumbling to Giles that Coco Shambhala had better furniture in it than we had at home. Every room was a joy – light, shade, breeze, colour combined to provide a sense of luxury and warmth. Yet I did not feel intimidated – you know when you go into fancy boutiques or hotels, you sometimes send up a silent prayer – please don’t let me break anything/fall over/ embarrass myself – well none of that – Coco Shambhala welcomed us and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Unpacking completed, we headed to the pool. Deliciously cool water allowed the children to get their temperature down, whilst splashing away the tiredness of travelling. Isn’t it funny – no matter where you are or how long you have travelled, the children always want to get in the pool first? Nothing else is an issue, just that inviting slice of jade that beckons you away from exploration or food – if tiredness is the problem, pool water is the cure! As the children switched between pirates, mermaids and sharks, I relaxed on one of the ghats, built into the pool. I remember thinking – how lucky are we? How many people get to experience a place like this? How many people get to create a place like this?
Our stay was perfect. Every morning, the bread boy delivered fresh warm rolls to our villa and we sat upstairs, eating our breakfast whilst the delicate rhythms of life outside were lost amidst the breeze. We shopped, explored and splashed to our heart’s content, though I must admit most days I found it hard to peel myself away from the sun lounger and my latest book to go adventuring. Two weeks passed in a flash, as I look back at the pictures now, I am hit by a barrage of memories, but what strikes me the most is that in every single one of the photos taken during that holiday, we are all smiling – not the cheesy ‘take this picture now!’ smiles – but genuine smiles that reach your eyes and tickle your toes. That is what Coco Shambhala taps into – spirit – it nourishes, revives and restores the joy we all have inside; it removes the stress and allows us to sample the simplicity of life. It was wonderful and a place I had to enjoy several more times before fate showed her hand and, once again, our life was to take an unexpected turn …