A squillion freckles and counting...

Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.

--Miriam Beard
 
By now I thoroughly expected to be feeling more annoyed than pleased by the sun, sand, and seawater that saturate my current setting.  Figured I’d be fed up with the constant slathering on of sunscreen that has constituted my daily beauty routine for the past 10 weeks. Sick of the dried salt on my skin and in my hair.  Tired of sand underfoot everywhere all the time.  Bored with beach life and getting fidgety for more action.

On the contrary, I am still savoring every second of it all. 

I am utterly content to be so unkempt.  No eyeliner or lipstick.  My daily wardrobe consists of a bathing suit and cover-up, changing for dinner into something slightly less informal, like a t-shirt and shorts.  Am ecstatic to sit outside round the clock with nothing warmer than a light cotton shawl.  Go barefoot whenever reasonably possible and when not, am thrilled to have an extremely limited choice of footwear:

everyday shoes

dress shoes

 

And to think there are 165 pairs of closed-toe boots and high heels in storage in Zurich! 

Although my epidermis is clearly better suited to cooler climes, it has (despite the fanatic use of SPF 50+ products) taken on a shade of tawny-copper-amber and I now have the best tan – and the most freckles – of my entire life.  Fun for a change.

I am absolutely adoring having no agenda whatsoever.

Find that I can spend entire days on the beach…staring out at the horizon…mesmerized by the sunlight glinting off the sea…strolling in the waves’ edge…swimming and snorkeling…reading and dozing in the shade of a canvas umbrella…observing the breakers rolling in…and out…in…out…trying to define the various shades of blue: cerulean? azure? aqua? turquoise? teal? cobalt? cyan? 

The only decision that has to be made is which open-air food shack to lunch at while a balmy breeze rustles the palm fronds and the crashing surf accompanies reggae Christmas carols on the bar stereo.

A well-chilled rosé has its place in the world

 

When I need a change of scenery from the sunlit strands of sand, I go diving amongst the reefs and wrecks here.  A slow descent, adjusting to the sensation of suspension in the water – an amazing lightness despite the lead weights around the waist and steel tank on the back.  Underwater breathing is my meditation…inhaling…exhaling…in…out… the bubbles emitted from my regulator the only other sound, the perfection of my buoyancy the achievement of the day. 

           

In this age of constant movement, staying in one place has become a huge challenge for most of us – and a greater necessity than ever before. How shall I find this sort of contentment back home, in a landlocked country no less?  Not sure but it will behoove me to try more often to slow down and be still, and I can now give myself permission to do so with a clear conscience.

And in this season of supposed spiritual reflection, most of us are instead more likely stressed out by the crowds, chaos, and commerce of the holidays.  Of course here in the Caribbean it doesn’t feel like Christmas as we know it and it is easier to stay serene so far from the usual onslaught.  I wish for you all the chance to retreat, however briefly, from the hectic pace and pressures, and I gift you a little bit of my peace.