We have made good on our decision to do absolutely nothing for as long as we want to at the Charm Churee resort. Yesterday was as lazy a day as we've had on this trip and today is shaping up to be the same.
Yesterday began with a slow shuffle late to the breakfast deck. The main deck is surrounded by a bar where you eat facing the ocean. The view and the choice of nationality for breakfast is not a hard one for us. We avoid the decision by eating both eat anThai and an American breakfast each. A Thai breakfast is dinner served in the morning. an American one is, well, you know... The buffet format means never having to make a tough choice between the two. We heap our plates in a culinary detente.
That less-then-strenuous activity was followed by a slow flip-flop down to the beach and the waiting beach chairs on Jansom Bay. The hardest task of the morning, after selecting the perfect site under a palm tree, was getting the six year old Japanese kid to turn off the sound of the combat video game she was playing on her iPhone. I suggested Nell grab it out of her hand, throw it in the sand, and grind her heel into the screen. Nell took the more logical approach and asked the father to lower the volume. Oh, so that's how truces are accomplished. WWIII was avoided without the atomic option.
Major physical activity ensued, if you can call floating like a jellyfish and watching the wide variety of vibrantly colored fish below you in the coral, a physical activity. In truth, I could have fallen asleep with my ass bobbing behind me if I didn't have to work at keeping the mouthpiece in.
More calories, or a least one or two, were expended in reading our books. I get to wishing they had people to hold them up for us in front of our faces.This strain calls for naps on the porches (note plural) . Magically we are treated to a thunderous downpour as we lay on bamboo chaises.
The return of the sun is followed by an explosion of activity, a 15 minute walk to town. We were so dazed when we landed that none of us had any recollection of it. In truth Mae Haad, the town, is nowhere you ever want to be, A more tawdry version of York beach only hotter, dirtier, and more crowded. I didn't see hookers, only sunburned stoners, motor bikers with a death wish (other people's deaths) and taxi drivers hawking their service to each passerby. Pizza joints. Sunglass shops, tattoo parlors, ugh. We resolve to avoid a return trip until we walk to the dock to leave.
Dressing for dinner reveals a startling new realization...we have slight sunburns even though we were lotioned to the gills and sat in the shade. Nothing serious but it did provide me with something to think about as the air conditioner worked on the days' humidity and we drifted to sleep.
I'll share my thoughts on this topic with you now:
My Politically Incorrect Theory of the Effect of Nationality on Beach Suitability and Behavior.
We'll start with our hosts, the Thai people. As Naga Travel predicted, we don't see them on the beach at all. They simply (and I suspect wisely) don't see the purpose of lying in the searing gaze of the sun, burning one's skin and courting cancer. Of course, they are born with lovely tansnsomtheynarentbfacedvwith that difficult choice. In addition, the working population is busy all day waiting on tourists who have come for tans. This is unfortunate since Thais are the only people around here that are truly genetically suited to the blazing sun and heat on these beaches.
Next, in no particular order, are the Scandinavians. One thing about this contingent: they are fit and tall and look good undressed, regardless of their age. Oddly these extremely northern Caucasians appear to tan superlatively . I hate them for all the above reasons.
The French are very similar to the the Scandinavians, but in tinier bathing suits. One senses that they would be naked or at least topless if they weren't in a country of more decorous people. They break up their sunbathing sessions with frequent trips to the beachside bar. No one has to tell the French how to live graciously; it's in their blood.
The Germans. Hefty, firmly planted on the ground, serious. Not smart about sunscreen. They are represented most vividly here by the man whose arms face and neck are a virulent red/ brown while his massive chest, bigger gut, and Popeye-like arms are pure snow white. From a few paces away he looks like he's just put on a fresh white t shirt and tucked it in his skin tight boxer briefs. His chunky wife and sister in law (or something..i'm guessing here) are in unusual one-piece, to-the-knees swimwear. I encountered one of them while snorkeling and was treated to an underwater glimpse of large Teutonic mammary when her breast slipped the restraints of this swimsuit.
The Japanese don't seem to have a shared tanning/beach suitability national characteristic. A good guess as to why would involve their obsession with picture taking. They simply can't sit still long enough to work on their tans. There are photos to be gotten. By reputation, they are too busy studying and learning so that they can dominate the world's financial, academic and political spheres to loll around darkening their skin-- but I'm not sure about that.
Finally there are the Irish. There are no less suitable people fora tropical sojourn then the sons of kings. Biologically we are the whitest people on earth. Our genetic inheritance includes the smallest amount of pigment of any race, including all those damn blonde Danes. Our pale mushroom-colored skin makes us better suited to live in graves rather than on a Thai beach. Right now I'm hiding from our enemy, the sun , on our open air porch ,surrounded by the tops of coconut trees because, as I said I got a mild sunburn yesterday...with a shirt on, in the shade. Today is even hotter and sunnier. I'll reemerge when the shadows lengthen and take a swim, Nosferatu on the beach.
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