Monica walks towards us across the terrace of the café restaurant, with a cheerful smile on her face, and dark sunglasses. A gazebo, tables and chairs, beach umbrellas on wooden planks. We follow her down a short flight of steps, sweeping past the boathouse of the club. Her dive center is ‘scattered,’ circling between sun and shade, rock, terraces, and painted wooden sheds. A small sitting room shaded by a canopy appears to be the classroom. On the vertical rock, a fishing net holds up the logo of the dive center: Blue Aura Diving Club. Down, towards the light, a small, sandy bay opens up; one of those places that either you know them, or you find them by chance on Google Earth, and right away you wonder how you’ll ever reach them. There are many of us, and little room to move: just a trail carved out of the rock.
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