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September 09, 2006
Beached
Our first day in Hawaii started early, and we were out on the beach by 10 a.m., slathered in sunblock. Since our philosophies on tanning differ, I used SPF 30 (thumbs up on the continuous spray version) and Mr. Bad Apologies used SPF 8, much to my dismay. We traipsed across the street to our lovely, virtually private beach and contempated nude sunbathing but eventually decided against it. I can't remember why, except that there was a distinct possibility that my lily white breasts might burst into flames when brought into direct contact with the sun.
Moment of confession brought on by Mr. Bad Apologies: I have gone completely off the vegan bandwagon. In fact, 30 seconds ago I was eating beef jerkey. I don't feel one bit bad about this lapse, since I'm not doing it for any particularly "moral" reason. And it's vacation anyway, so get off my back.
Where was I? Oh yes, the spontaneous combustion of my breasts. Anyway, we decided against it for the time being--at least until a time when SPF 30 could be applied in copious amounts to nether regions usually covered by nylon swim suits.
Instead we lolled on the beach until about 1 p.m.--discussing things like our future plans, the freakish number of people with dogs on our part of the beach, and the likely number of sharks within a 1 mile radius of us (I said three, Mr. Bad Apologies said, after some thought, one thousand). We swam in the shallow water, venturing only to where we could just barely stand because water turned rocky and jagged, and occasionally poked up in unexpected boulders in unexpected places, and we didn't think it would be very sophisticated to flip out when bumping into an unknown mass and wondering if it was a shark or a rock.
We came back in for lunch, and then wandered off in separate directions to relax in the air conditioned condo. Of course, "reading" turned into a nap--mine of the two-hour variety and Mr. Bad Apologies...well, I finally woke him up at 7 p.m. It's vacation, after all and if we want to sleep away the afternoon, so be it. I decided not to worry about the Big Idea, and instead did more reading. I realized, though, that my choice is a bit ironic. I'm reading "Snow" by Orhan Parmuk and it could not be more of a non-beach read. The summary:
A Turkish poet who spent 12 years as a political exile in Germany witnesses firsthand the clash between radical Islam and Western ideals in this enigmatically beautiful novel. Ka's reasons for visiting the small Turkish town of Kars are twofold: curiosity about the rash of suicides by young girls in the town and a hope to reconnect with "the beautiful Ipek," whom he knew as a youth. But Kars is a tangle of poverty-stricken families, Kurdish separatists, political Islamists (including Ipek's spirited sister Kadife) and Ka finds himself making compromises with all in a desperate play for his own happiness.
The whole thing is set in Kars, where a snowstorm has cut off the tiny town and creates a insulated, isolating, and inspiring setting. Not exactly the chick lit that I read during my last beach adventures. But I was in the middle of it when I left, and I was afraid that putting it aside for a week would mean putting it aside forever.
So now the question is: how should we spend the rest of the night? Not exactly dressed to go out for dinner (I removed my bathing suit and threw on a t-shirt and skirt, sans underclothing--shh, don't tell Mr. Bad Apologies), we aren't equipped for dinner here. Perhaps a shower--that, at least, would remove some of the sand that has gathered in uncomfortable places.
New vacation blog entry tally, as inspired by Ms. Rather Be Travelling's challenge:
Write Again Soon: 2
Bad Apologies: .25 (I'm only giving his crappy entry 1/4 credit)
(Click on the pictures to be taken to the ever-growing Hawaii photo album...more to be added as relevant.)
