Lost Island

The vast Pacific Ocean is a scary place even in an airline at 37,000 feet.I have flown over the great expanse on many occasions on trips from the U.S. to Asia and occasionally from Europe on around the world adventures. Often clouds force cold chardonnay to take precedent over the lost spectacular view far below.There are times, however,when a momentary glance yields a bewildering site. A rugged shape slowly takes form. If the sun is bright the billowing blue sea is interrupted momentarily by a thick green mass. Then the distinctive beaches appear. The traveler immediately knows it is an island far from nowhere hemmed in on every corner by water. At that very moment I always ask the flight attendants the name the fascinating dot and of course they never know. It is usually then that I make a firm resolution to return one day and explore this romantic spot while silently praying that the place is uninhabited creating “An Island to Myself”.

And so it was with the Republic of Palau. Once I winced at it and later located it on a map I was committed to return with a resolve of course to race walk around the territory to feel the excitement of being in a new place, the intrigue of meeting a new people and the suspense of entering the unknown.

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