Taking a step away from the grind of work, I found myself on a remote island, the sound of waves acting as my sole distraction. The beach, devoid of the typical tourist clutter, felt genuinely untouched. I dug my feet into the cool sand, let the salt air fill my lungs, and allowed the rhythmic crash of waves to drown out the incessant buzz of my everyday life. No emails, no meetings, just the simple, raw elements of nature. It was a stark contrast to the desk and screens that usually bound me, a reminder that sometimes, solitude in nature is the most genuine form of reconnection.

At Kuredu's famed White Party, the beach transformed under the moonlight with attendees draped in gleaming white attire. Lanterns hung overhead, casting a soft glow on the sands below, and the DJ's beats melded seamlessly with the distant murmur of the ocean. But as I scanned the crowd, it quickly became evident that the event was primarily a haven for families and couples. Children danced energetically, their laughter filling the air, while couples swayed in romantic harmony. As a single guy, I couldn't help but feel slightly out of place amidst the familial and romantic revelry. While the ambiance was undeniably festive and the setting breathtaking, the night served as a poignant reminder of the solitary nature of my journey.

I spent most of the night talking to a Russian guy who wanted to hangout with another guy since his wife and kid had gone to bed and this was his first “man time” he had had since getting to the island. I happily obliged.