You can read this post in : French
The moon is bright and almost full. I’m sitting on an ugly plastic chair, my feet skimming the water (I won’t go further, the furniture is not reliable), diving into Johann Sebastian’s cello suite while browsing the day’s pictures on this tiny island in the Andaman Sea: Ko Lao-Liang. The beach spreads hardly over two hundred meters. Just behind, some wooden buildings roofed over with palms leaves, shelter a cafe and restrooms. Everything is swallowed in the broad and thick leaves of what they call the elephant’s trees. And that’s all! Everything else is unreachable, walled up behind tall steep karstic cliffs. On this island we’re at least twenty: nineteen Germans and I… Weird. A curly blond haired handsome English speaking guy welcomes the guests, alone…except for two Thais who handle cooking and three others who endlessly sweep the sand to gather as much leaves as possible of those elephant trees (almond trees). In short, I’m in a modern internment camp, full of peaceful Neo-Germans. The real death camp lies below my feet. When Johann Sebastian was still living, the coral reef was vivid and diverse, most certainly a wonder of life. Every single coral that I saw when snorkeling today was brown, bleak and dead. Two hours full of brown. Scraps of millions corpses still float among the remnant corals. According to curly-blond-handsome-guy, every stony coral in the Adaman Sea is dead. At least he’s right about those along the coasts. Many fishes might have left or die, yet there are still quite a lot there, from the tiny one to those of decent size adorned with vivid colors. I even managed to shoot a movie of this tiny guy sheltered by its hairy poisonous Lord: a clownfish with its sea anemone. Yeah! Clowns stay. It’s a change when compared with the opulent Bangkok. It’s simply different, yet not as “lively”.