⏱️Time Travel Photo Book | Looking Back ✈️ Records of a Palau Trip

Travel memories are strange things; as time passes, their outlines gradually become blurred. Even so, when I happen to look back at old photos, I sometimes find myself stopping in my tracks as I recall the scenery, the atmosphere, and even the small conversations from that time.

In this essay, "Time Travel Photo Book," I plan to use such photos as a starting point to write down my past travels little by little. This time, I am looking back at the oldest digital photos I have on hand—a trip to Palau that I took with my wife during Golden Week in 2007.

The reason I decided to make Palau the subject of this travel essay is not just because I was looking back at old photos for the first time in a while and suddenly remembered that blue sea and intense sunlight. A subtle trigger was the fact that I had recently written several pieces about Taiwan.

While writing about Taiwan, I stepped a little into the history of the Japanese colonial era because of my mother's sister, who married into a family in Taiwan. In that process, I suddenly remembered, "Come to think of it, Palau, which I visited before, was also a land once governed by Japan." I realized, belatedly, that there was an unexpected layering of history in the places I had walked around as a tourist without a second thought back then.

Curious, I took a look at the website of the Embassy of the Republic of Palau in Japan, and found the following written about the relationship between Japan and Palau.

Reading this far, the meaning of the ruins I saw there, such as gun batteries and air-raid shelters, finally began to take shape little by little.

I would like to pause once again to reflect on that past trip, which I had passed through just by enjoying Palau as a tourist destination, and write about that time while thinking about the history engraved in that place. This essay begins with that thought.

Memories of Palau ~Departure~

From late night on Saturday, April 28, 2007, to the local time on the 29th (Sun) | The beginning of the journey...

When I opened the photo folder, the first thing I noticed was that there were clearly fewer photos compared to other trips. I tilted my head in confusion, but I immediately remembered the reason.

At the time, I was just in the middle of being completely hooked on diving. I had just gotten my license, and I was diving enthusiastically, learning the names of fish, and keeping a detailed logbook. And, with my bad habit of "getting into it from the gear side," I even bought an "underwater-capable video camera."

I chose one with a built-in HDD. I put it in a dedicated case, dove into the sea with high spirits, chased fish, and took pictures of coral to my heart's content.

—However, during the trip, at one point, the camera went silent. I tried to turn it back on while feeling anxious, but there was no response. As a result, the HDD failed, and the photos and videos I had saved were gone in an instant.

Fortunately, the camera was a type that could also use an SD card, so some of the photos saved there were somehow safe. Those are the few records that remain scattered in my folder now.

Because of that, I intend to write down the memories of this trip little by little, tracing the remaining photos and the memories of that time. *Photos of people have been illustrated using a processing app.

For that reason, the first photo that appears when I open the travel photo folder is one dated Monday, April 30, 2007. But I shouldn't have left Japan on that day. Tracing my memory, I think I left on Saturday, April 28.

This trip used a tour from a travel agency specializing in diving called "World Explorer." It is an agency that still exists and is familiar to diving enthusiasts.

And if I recall correctly, we entered Palau via Guam.

Another thing I remember well is the departure airport. It wasn't Narita, but the Haneda Airport of that time, before the grand international terminal we have now was built. Even though it was an international flight, it was in a corner—a truly remote corner—of either Terminal 1 or 2 (I can't remember which), with a small security checkpoint and an immigration counter that was so tiny it could barely be called one. I believe there were only about two boarding gates.

And the departure was late at night. I think the clock hands were pointing to 1 or 2 AM. It's a time I would probably fall asleep at now, but I remember my heart racing at the start of the trip, and I didn't feel much sleepiness at all.

The next morning, we arrived in Guam. We had quite a bit of time for our layover there, so we killed time by wandering around the airport, eating something at a shop, and taking pictures. My wife bought a black shoulder bag at a duty-free shop during this wait. She still mentions it sometimes, so I think she must have really liked it.

Back then, we didn't have any airline status, so of course we had no access to lounges. We sat on airport benches, drinking coffee and laughing together, saying things like, "I can't wait to get there." Those were the kinds of moments we had.

That night, the flight to Palau finally departed. We arrived at our destination on the night of April 29th—I believe it was around 7 or 8 PM. When we arrived at the airport, local staff greeted us, and we headed to the hotel on a tour bus.

What surprised me was how dark it was on the way. There were almost no streetlights, and only the bus headlights illuminated the pitch-black road. I still clearly remember the local female tour guide saying this on the bus.

“In Palau, going out late at night is prohibited by law.”

I was surprised when I heard it, but when I looked it up later, it is indeed stipulated that "going out is prohibited from 2:30 AM to 5:00 AM." That simple surprise from back then still comes back to me now.

We stayed at a hotel called the "Palasia Hotel Palau" at the time.

I remember the room being an unusually large space with only a bed and a small sofa set placed in the middle. The floor tiles were cold, and I was even a bit confused about where to spread out our luggage.

Looking at the hotel's official website now, I can't find any photos of the room that match my memory from back then. It must have undergone significant renovations since those days, and it's probably much more comfortable now.

Memories of Palau ~The Day After Arrival~

April 30, 2007 (Mon) | From the balcony in the early morning

Among the remaining photos, the first one was taken from the hotel balcony. I remember it was a room where you could see the ocean in the distance, and the soft morning light was faintly dyeing the air of the still-quiet island.

And another one is a photo of my wife sleeping soundly in bed. Perhaps exhausted from the long journey, she was sleeping peacefully and comfortably. Looking back at it now, I deeply feel that these kinds of natural expressions can only be captured during a trip.

After that, we finally headed out for diving. We traveled to the spot by boat, and when we entered the water at the instructor's signal, we rode the current to the next spot—this is what's called a "drift dive." I still remember the sensation of the tide being quite fast and my body being pushed along. I believe we did three dives.

Underwater, it was a series of breathtaking sights. A large school of sharks swam leisurely, and a school of barracuda shimmered in silver as they reflected the light. I clearly remember the way a school of sardines moved in dense, shifting formations, and the sight of a Napoleon fish swimming lazily.

In between dives, we stopped at a small, isolated island to have lunch or just lounge in the shade. That quiet time, where the only things you could hear were the wind rustling the leaves and the sound of waves lapping against the shore in the distance—it felt incredibly luxurious.

I had taken quite a lot of photos, but unfortunately, due to the HDD trouble I mentioned at the beginning, most of them were lost, and all I have left are a few shots from the SD card. But even so, it's enough. The blueness of the sea that day, the liveliness of the fish, the temperature of the air, and the excitement in my own heart—those things remained clearly in my memory.

Looking back on it now, I think it was such a fulfilling day that I can remember it clearly even without the photos.

After finishing the diving, we returned to the hotel and decided to have dinner at a nearby local eatery. It was a shop with a simple exterior, with an atmosphere that felt more like a place locals used daily rather than one for tourists. I always feel a little happy when I find a place like this while traveling.

However, I was surprised when I opened the menu.

What was listed there was, believe it or not, "Simmered Napoleon Fish."
Yes, it was the very same majestic, large fish I had encountered underwater during the day's diving. The image of it swimming leisurely through the clear blue water came to mind, and I was momentarily bewildered, thinking, "Is it really edible?" but my curiosity won out and I decided to order it.

As for the taste, contrary to its appearance, it had little gamey flavor, and the meat was soft and moist. I remember it was simmered in a soy sauce-based broth that had soaked in thoroughly. Both the impact and the taste made it a dish that was truly "unique to the journey."

The unfortunate thing is that I don't have a photo of this dish. Of course, I had taken one properly at the time. I definitely had the Napoleon fish dish captured on my camera—so now, it is a dish that remains only in my memory.

A long time after that, I learned from a TV program or an online article that Napoleon fish had already been banned from fishing. I heard that feeding them is also prohibited, so while you can still see them now, you can no longer eat them.

I ate it without thinking too deeply about it at the time, but now I think that dish was, in the end, a very precious experience.

Memories of Palau ~Second Day After Arrival~

May 1, 2007 (Tue) | A Packed Island-Hopping Tour

My second day in Palau also started with a shot from the balcony.
Just like the day before, the sea in the distance was shining quietly. When I stepped out onto the balcony, the humid, heavy air clung to my skin, and I was enveloped in the feeling that another day on a southern island was beginning.

This day was the day I participated in a packed activity tour that allowed me to enjoy the full charm of the Palau sea. Even looking back on it now, it was a day condensed with the "experiences" that represent Palau, so much so that I wonder how I managed to fit it all in.

First, we boarded a boat from the harbor and glided across the sea, weaving between the islands. As we approached our destination, the blue of the sea became increasingly intense, taking my breath away.
Our first activity was sea kayaking in a calm lagoon. The time spent slowly paddling through the quiet water felt as soothing as meditation.

Next, we headed to a place called the "Milky Way." White mud accumulates on the seabed here, and it is a spot where you can get the "whitening mud" that has become a famous Palau cosmetic. Our guide jumped directly into the sea from the boat, scooped up the mud, and we slathered it all over our faces and arms—there is something surprisingly refreshing about a time when adults are allowed to play with all their might, and everyone had a look on their face like they had returned to their childhood.

After that, we stopped at a small uninhabited island for some relaxing time, what is known as "island hopping." Sitting in the shade of a tree, gazing at the sea, picking up seashells, or just listening to the sound of the wind—it was a time when my heart felt like it was unraveling, even though I wasn't doing anything at all.

And one of the highlights of the day was "Jellyfish Lake."
It is a lake located inland on one of the islands in Palau, inhabited by countless jellyfish. Surprisingly, the jellyfish here do not have stingers, making it a very rare place in the world where divers and snorkelers can swim with them.

This lake is a "marine lake" formed when it was separated from the sea by a rise in sea level about 12,000 years ago. Because it is not completely connected to the open ocean, the jellyfish evolved to lose their nematocysts (stinging cells). The sensation of slipping smoothly between the many slowly swimming jellyfish was a strange and quiet experience, as if I had slipped inside the body of a jellyfish myself.

Finally, we went snorkeling at a spot with high transparency. The moment I put my face into the water, colorful fish and coral reefs spread out before me, bringing the trip to a beautiful close that was fitting for the final stage of our journey.

On the boat ride back, we headed leisurely toward the harbor, catching the evening breeze. On the way, we stopped briefly at a place where an old gun battery peeked out from a hole in the rocky cliff face. That sight felt like a fragment of history that suddenly appeared amidst the lingering joy of our fun activities.

By the time we returned to the harbor as the sun began to dip, my body felt a little tired, yet my mind felt strangely alert—it was that kind of day.

The last shot remaining on my camera was this photo of an old gun battery gaping open in a hollow of the cliff. The date was May 2, 2007, and the time was 16:50:36—this became the final cut preserved as a record of the trip.

There are no photos from after that. The reason, as I have mentioned a few times already, is that the video camera with a built-in HDD that I loved using broke during the trip. The underwater footage I must have taken so much of, the photos of dinner, and the casual moments at the airport were all lost in an instant.

I suppose I returned safely to Tokyo via Guam the next day. However, I have no photos or notes to prove it, and I cannot recall it clearly. Yet, strangely, it doesn't bother me, because as I grow older, I feel more and more that the true record of a journey is not what is visible, but the sensations and atmosphere that remain in the heart.

For this trip to Palau as well, diving was the main purpose at the time, and I was obsessed only with diving into the sea. But now, as I look back at the photos or reflect on them by writing these words, I feel that things I overlooked at the time are gradually emerging.

The beautiful sea, the scenery of the laid-back islands, the mysterious lake where I swam with jellyfish. The old gun battery I saw on the way back to the harbor—and ourselves, trying to enjoy the trip to the end despite being disappointed by the broken camera.

Although much of the record was lost, by putting it into words like this, the journey regains its outline in my heart once again. Thinking of it that way, perhaps even that accident was a part of this trip after all.

If I ever have the chance to visit Palau again—next time, I would like to have a little more time to savor not just the photos, but also the 'historical background of the landscape' more thoroughly. With that thought in mind, I will gently close the memories of this trip.

🔔Bell