A Leisurely Trip

𓂂𓈒𓏸 I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come to Anaya. Each time, I think I’ve gotten used to its rhythm, familiar with the taste of the sea, familiar with the sound of the wind blowing over the dunes. But every arrival still stirs that feeling of being “gently caught by life.” This time, I chose to stay at a guesthouse in Phase Ten. The wooden doorframe shines under the sun, and the air is filled with the mixed scent of plants and coffee. No alarm clocks, no to-do lists—just learning to let time flow on its own in a slow rhythm. In the morning, I took a walk along the familiar path and visited a few favorite small shops, rien and T.H.E. Anaya isn’t crowded, the wind is just right, and even the light is gentle. Sitting down to drink a cup of aged tea, watching groups of pedestrians pass by outside the window, it felt as if the whole world was breathing. In the afternoon, I went to Boss Zhu’s Tongyuan Tea House. As soon as I entered, the scent of wood and aged tea intertwined. A pot of aged ripe Pu’er tea, the color of the tea soup as deep as time itself. We sat by the window, the wind blowing in from the sea, the curtains gently swaying. We talked about travel, about life, and about the many times we’ve stayed in Anaya. Some say Anaya is not a destination, but a state of mind. Here, people slow down, even their heartbeat softens. At night, back at the guesthouse, listening to the wind sweeping past the eaves, the sparse starlight on the horizon, no noise, no plans, just quietly being with oneself. A trip without rushing is a way to relearn how to live. Not to arrive anywhere, but to reunite with oneself by the familiar sea once again.