Just one day, experiencing the authentic lifestyle of countless fishermen blending with the genuine warmth of the people from the Southwest, to grasp the remoteness and intimacy of Nam Du.
A Regular Day Exploring Nam Du Island
At dawn, the harbor bursts with bustling boats loaded with fish and seafood. The sound of ship horns fills the air, while guesthouses and eateries bustle, eagerly anticipating calls from distant guests.
The Essence of the Remote Island
The Nam Du Archipelago lies off the coast of the Gulf of Thailand, in the province of Kien Giang. It emerged in recent years as a destination that still holds its pristine beauty with long stretches of white sand hugged by lush coconut trees amidst the soothing sound of the green-blue sea.
Beside the picturesque seascape lies another corner, rustic yet intimate: the life and people of Nam Du.
A morning perhaps like any other for the people of Nam Du. Alongside tourists carrying bags and parcels from the mainland, there are also goods sent to the island.
Yet it seems the presence of tourists doesn't disrupt the lives of the locals here.
Leaving the pier, I followed the innkeeper back to my room to stow away my belongings, observing the surroundings absentmindedly as I went. After tidying up, I quickly returned to the pier to take a stroll around the small neighborhood.
On this island, little is grown or produced aside from the seafood caught from the sea. Only a few houses have shifted to renting rooms or selling food, while the rest still rely on the sea, clinging to the age-old fishing trade.
Along the pier are various vendors selling all sorts of snacks, though not as abundant as on the mainland, it's still considered fairly diverse for the islanders.
A fruit stall adorned with various typical fruits of the Mekong Delta. Nearby, there's a bakery whose name escapes me. The voices and invitations of the street vendors still echo in my ears, but the scent of fresh fruit and newly baked bread are overshadowed by the distinctive smell here: the aroma of dried green bone fish.
On this small island, green bone fish are ubiquitous. Green bone fish have greenish bones and white flesh. When dried, a bit of chili is added to give the fish a subtle spiciness.
The bamboo mats laden with green bone fish line the embankment, occupying a part of the neighborhood's thoroughfare. Regardless of gender, the agile figures neatly arrange fish, dry them, and occasionally bring them out to the sun for drying.
Our lunch couldn't go without this fish dish either, except instead of using dried fish, I got to savor freshly caught green bone fish, fragrant with the scent of the sea.
The restaurant overlooks the sea, and people always reserve tables on the sidewalk, silently watching the passersby. The whole island village only has one bustling seaside road. Eateries intertwine, catering to both tourists and islanders.
My favorite are the displays of dried goods showcasing the sea's bounty: green bone fish, dried squid, jellyfish, pickled shrimp… If you have a camera handy, you can capture the vibrant tapestry of dried seafood, creating impressive frames.
We departed from the port to visit the smaller islands nearby. Unlike the bustling fishing boats, the Nam Du archipelago is much quieter. Occasionally, we'd spot a few small boats casting nets near the rocky shores.
At the beginning of the season, the sea grapes, locally known as 'nhum biển', taste much more delicious.
Arriving at Mau Island, one of the most beautiful small islands in the Nam Du archipelago, everyone's gaze is drawn to the pristine blue beach, a breathtaking sight.
I wandered along the narrow path to the fishing village by the sea. Perhaps it's the 21 years without major storms that give the locals the 'peace of mind' to live so close to the shore. The scenery of the fishing village is as picturesque as a painting, the beauty of livelihood.
On one side is the beach with banyan trees, coconut palms providing shade, where children are playing before being called home by their mothers. On the other side are myriad houses, nestled quietly amidst the sound of waves and wind.
The scene is incredibly tranquil: women knitting nets on their house porches, men carving wood, making tools by the sea. On the small dock are boats ferrying goods between the islands.
Reaching Cu Tron Island was challenging, but Mau Island proved even more so. Students here have to take a boat to Cu Tron Island to attend school. The beautiful sea space evokes melancholy and nostalgia.
We left Mau Island as the night descended upon the Nam Du archipelago. Cu Tron Island was shrouded in darkness, except for the glowing embers of the barbecue stalls. A few grilled sea grapes, some clams, and oysters made for a delightful dinner.
The night on Nam Du Island was serene, the sky woven with sparkling stars. Looking up, we knew tomorrow would bring another sunny day.
Another New Day
Dawn breaks, and a new day begins in the Nam Du archipelago. Before heading to the port to board the boat back to the mainland, we stopped by the gates of An Son Elementary School and joined the children's morning gift shop.
The presence of tourists doesn't make the children any more curious. There are still toy stalls like when I was a child, a few breakfast stands, and a group of kids gathering around. Bustling, lively...
The school bell just rang, students chatter as they head back to class, returning the quiet space to the school gate.
We took the opportunity to exchange a few words with an elderly gentleman having breakfast before he strolled to the port. A new ferry had just docked, and we boarded, Cu Tron Island receding into the sunlight of the new day.
From Youth
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Source: Travel Guide Mytour
MytourApril 8, 2016