I got posed a question one night in Phu Quoc, an island just an hour away from Ho Chi Minh City.
“Here’s a scenario: At 25, you’re presented with the decision of moving to a remote island with your current partner, to help fulfill his dream of running a seaside beach café. You’ve been an urban city girl all your life. Do you move?”
Before I got to answering the question, I had many of my own. Will I be continuing to pursue my personal passions on the island? Am I already positive that he’s The One? Will this be permanent or will I be away from my home and family for a couple of years, tops? Most importantly, does he have what it takes to run a café on the beach?
The last point got everyone thinking because really, other than having a brilliant business vision, what would taking on a role like that require? As I looked around Rory’s, I was convinced someone had gotten it right on Phu Quoc.
Located at the La Veranda side of the island, the eatery is dressed up in colourful lanterns and easy chairs. Patrons seeking a quick escape from the sun can dine in comfort in a more rustic, sheltered section. With the bar on one end and the kitchen on the other, I never once felt my peace disrupted in spite of the busy happenings in either rooms.
We were sat in shelter with beers in hand and when as dusk arrived, we moved closer towards the sea. We had two options on the sand: colourful, plastic chairs with a side table, or wooden, reclined beach chairs with a dining table. We opted for the latter and enjoyed our pizza.
At 9pm, the nightly bonfire was put on and the midday heat was exchanged for a cool, midsummer night’s breeze. We left with happy tummies and a calm in our hearts, something only the sand, sea and a good time can deliver.
"I'd gladly marry Rory," was my answer.