One day I woke early – around 7 ish. I went and meditated on the beach then went for a little walk up and down the beach. Something seemed amiss but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Later on that day, I bumped into one of the people that works at Beach Bar.
She said weakly “Hey”.
“Hey! How are you?” I responded.
“Okay. Did you walk down the beach today?”
“Notice anything odd”
“Beach bar burnt down. At 6 o’clock this morning. Apparently there was a police raid. They burnt it down. They also arrested 6 or more locals who were taking drugs.”
The conversation went on. There were a number of theories floating around the beach. Some said the police burnt it down after their drug raid. Some say it was a rival bar because they were jealous that Beach Bar took most the customers every evening and used the police raid that morning as a cover. Either way – the beach bar staff were annoyed because…no business no work…no work no money.
What hadn’t gone unnoticed was the disappearance of the receptionist who was first there when I arrived at Campaka. I’m guessing my gut feel was right. He was higher than a kite and the police got him. When I spoke to the new people at reception a few days later they confirmed my suspicion. They said the police had taken him, and they hadn’t heard from him since. They have no idea where he’s been taken.
The following few days was intense for beach bar. They rebuilt the bar, bought a new generator and restocked the booze. The rest of the beach pitched in where they could, painting walls, carrying stock through the beach to the bar etc. A few days later it had reopened and just in time for Merdeka when hundreds of people come in from KL to celebrate Malaysia Day.
I never did see the original receptionist again.