Finally, we slow down. There is little for breakfast at the beach where we are staying, in fact, less than little, nothing for the first four days. Today the Roy Tawan re-opened, the only breakfast place in this little area. And aren't we lucky! The coffee is real, and good! I came armed with my own can of sweetened condensed milk, an addiction I acquired on my very first visit to Southeast Asia in 1991. Even though I practiced and practiced, no one understands my farang version of "Nom wahn". We ate a goodbye breakfast with a lovely German couple we met here, Barbara and Michael, and Michael generously took my can of milk up to the window to show the cook what I wanted. He came back with an opened can. I put it in my little fridge and will take it with me in the morning. And Roy Tawan has cake! Really good cake! So for the next few days until we leave, we have a good breakfast place without having to rent the motorbike to go into town.
After breakfast, we swim. We swim every day for about an hour. The water is warm and we bounce over small swells and an occasional breaker. The gulf in this area is like a large, benign salt water swimming pool with no one and nothing in it. The shore drops away very slowly and we can go quite far out and still touch the bottom. There is no effort required. This is the first time in I don't know how many years I have actually laid in the sun, rolling over to try and get a tan on my shockingly white gams. I remember those years in southern California when the pursuit of the summer tan started around the beginning of April. I used to rub a mixture of olive oil and iodine on myself and slowly broil on a blanket. What was I thinking? Now I am thinking about that, all these years later. I think how good the sun feels on my old bones and I don't care that I look like an over-ripe plum in my one piece bathing suit. Now a simple swim, and a shower to rinse off the sand is enough and I am grateful for it. We read, we think about lunch, walk to lunch, walk back, shower again, and then its time for an afternoon lay down, because it is very very very hot. It has taken us four days to slow down. A little adventure, a lot of slow down.
If I could change anything, it would be the mix of people. Mostly there are lots of fat old Germans and French, older men with young Thai girlfriends or wives. I miss the mixture of young and old. There are a few younger couples, but younger travelers want a Rave, or a more lively scene. Many of the people staying here stay for months at a time. The little bungalows are rented for 3 to 5 months and they prepare their own meals, camping on their little porches. It is a bit like the RV camps in Arizona and alarmingly like an old folks home, only most of these people get around better. There is a shocking lack of good butts and the European penchant for male bikinis never ceases to amaze and astound. It is hard to connect, I think, unless you speak French, because the French absolutely do not speak any other language. The Germans and Dutch, however, speak better English than we do sometimes, but they tend to congregate together. As exuberant as Americans are, loud, bouncy like friendly puppy dogs, there are none, nada, zip. We smile, we wave, but like new kids on the block, we are not invited in. It's okay...couples like Barbara and Michael, and Hasi (we think) and Ingrid from Sweden, make up for the rest. Its fun to share travel stories and learn about other people's lives.
Now it's nap time. I've decided to bring home the shell collection Muzzy and I have on our porch and make one of those tacky shell mobiles from them to hang near the fire pit in our back yard. Really, you say? Will a gull perched atop a piece of driftwood be next? Am I ready for the trailer park?
