Picture this: winding garden paths lead past bright buds of tropical flowers as seashells crunch beneath your feet. The scent of ripe citrus floats through the air, the lush canopy dampening any sounds from outside, except for maybe some quiet chittering of birdsong. Smoke tangles through the branches of a nearby banyan tree, carrying the sweet scent of charred pineapple…

Watching the sun set over open water is a singular experience. It slowly swells from a pale yellow dot high above to a pink pulsing thing, slowly bleeding into its surroundings. It sinks towards the horizon so slowly for hours, until it just starts to touch the border between sea and sky. Then, like someone deep below the ocean started sucking the sky up through a boba straw, it disappears, leaving streaks of rose in its wake that eventually fade…