Port Dickson, always mentioned with its abbreviation P.D. in my family. The setting egg yolk witnessed our brief reunion after a long time. P.D. may have a Hard Rock Café hotel but it is by
no means Ibiza; no café for people watching, no bars and clubs to dance till late night and no sunbather’s on sight. However it carries the almighty childhood memories of sand-castle building, sea dipping and shells digging. Yet this regenerated beach is unfamiliar to me. Yes it is sandier and perhaps cleaner but it is no longer the same place in my memory. And I have long substituted my love for sand castle building with shooting silhouettes.