The moment the boat skimmed across turquoise waters and Pinang appeared on the horizon, we all fell silent. Palm trees leaned out over the sea as if to wave us in, and the first glimpse of our little bungalows, peeking through the green, made the two-day journey suddenly worth every step. We had arrived in paradise — wild, raw, and breathtaking.
Getting there was no small feat: two long flights, an overnight hotel stay, another flight, a two-hour drive over potholed island roads, and finally a sail across open waters. By the time we climbed aboard the boat, exhaustion was real — but then came Captain and Bobby, the island’s local host, beaming with warmth and generosity. Their welcome swept away our tiredness. Nothing, though, could truly prepare us for stepping onto Pinang’s white sands.
Our home for the next 10 nights was a collection of simple yet stunning bungalows, just metres from the shore. Each one was unique: bamboo floors, driftwood-framed beds, lampshades woven from fishing nets, and shells bigger than our hands carved into sinks. At night, we fell asleep to the sounds of crashing waves, rustling palms, crabs scuttling in the sand, and the occasional four-legged visitor bold enough to poke around the porch. Yes, there were mosquitoes. Yes, it was rustic. But that was the beauty — nothing between us and nature.
It took a couple of days, but soon we melted into island life. We rose with the sun for our first yoga session of the day, two spacious hours of movement and breath that left us open and awake. Afterwards, breakfast was a feast of eggs, porridge, and endless papaya, pineapple, and dragon fruit. With no bread, dairy, or wheat in sight, our bodies quickly felt lighter, clearer. Days drifted between massages with Agous, one-to-one yoga or KORE Therapy sessions, reading in hammocks, wandering barefoot across sand, or simply gazing at the sea from the shala.
Lunch came mid-afternoon — colourful plates of snacks and sweet treats — and later we gathered again for afternoon practice. These sessions were slower and softer: Yin yoga, yoga nidra with cacao, playful partner yoga, and even a muscle-testing workshop. As the sun sank into the horizon, we wrapped ourselves in long sleeves and socks to shield from the island’s most persistent residents: mosquitoes. Dinner was always an event, each meal fresh, nourishing, and different from the last. Mami, our local cook and her team, worked their magic with freshly caught fish, fragrant vegetables, crunchy pakoras, rich soups, and bright salads. Within days, we were glowing from the inside out.
Pinang wasn’t always gentle. The weather shifted constantly — one moment heavy storms with lightning splitting the sky, the next clear sunshine. Nights could be unexpectedly cool, days wildly humid. Waves pounded the shore, rain soaked us as we moved between bungalows and the yoga shala, and yet… this unpredictability became its own teacher. We learned to accept what we couldn’t change, to laugh when the skies opened, to let go of control. A true lesson in Buddhist acceptance.
We took to the sea twice during our stay. One day we explored the surrounding islands, swimming from the boat to a deserted coconut island, shells crunching beneath our feet as we discovered fish the colour of jewels darting through the shallows. Dolphins appeared, racing the bow of our boat, leaping through sunlight. Another stop and we peeked into a neighbouring tourist resort — comfortable, yes, but nothing compared to the wild magic of Pinang. We knew where home was.
The jewel of the retreat came on our final day, as we set out on an adventure to a deserted tropical island — a sanctuary where turtles come to lay their eggs, protected and cared for by a small team of dedicated rangers. Our journey began in darkness, trekking through the jungle to the chorus of night creatures, the Milky Way above us spilling a thousand stars to light the path. By sunrise, we stepped onto a beach so magical it took our breath away. There, we were greeted by Popeye the resident crocodile, and witnessed the tiniest of miracles: baby turtles hatching and bravely making their way to the call of the ocean. With fresh coconuts in hand and the sound of huge waves crashing at our feet, it felt like time had paused — a once-in-a-lifetime moment none of us will forget.
By the end, the island had woven itself into us. Pinang was more than a destination — it was a mirror, stripping life back to simplicity, connection, and joy. We came as travellers and left as a tribe, carrying with us the rhythm of the waves, the taste of fresh fruit, and the laughter of evenings spent barefoot in the sand.
Pinang stole my heart. And though few ever set foot on her shores, her magic now travels wherever we go.
Could you see yourself retreating here with me? If so, send me a message quick and let’s make it happen.
If you’d like to retreat with me in 2026, we are headed to Morocco (to an all new hotel/city destination) in May, and Sri Lanka in November. Check out the Retreats page or send me a message for more details. Spaces always sell out fast!