The island basked in the tropical sun, two parts separated by a sliver of sea so azure blue it hurt the eyes. From the winding hill road it looked like a contented turtle, calm and dreamy.
The picturesque village where she lived her wonderful childhood took the name of that turtle-shaped island, Betong, right at the south western tip of the island state up north of the peninsula. Idyllic, unhurried, peaceful and friendly - it was a haven and more.
Oh the days of carefree laughter under spreading rambutan trees, gathering tiny wild flowers on the banks of a gurgling brook, climbing jambu trees with some close friends or just sitting quietly in the shade of a rain tree enjoying the cool of an evening...and oftentimes the splendour of a sunset!
Her grandparents' home perched on a hill slope, built with love by her retired police officer grandfather. A traditional vernacular timber structure "Rumah Melayu Tiang Dua Belas" with simple carvings at the long windows, fascia and "anjung", surrounded by tall elegant coconut trees, seasonal and other fruit trees.
The nights were cold. The days warm. The best times of the day were the early mornings, misty and ethereal in the half light; and the long lovely evenings in the glow of a setting sun...
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