Karen's world

The Resolutionites are back

2012-01-17T07:04:00.000+02:00

Let me be perfectly clear about this; I am not a natural exerciser. My lifestyle and body type are not designed for athletic pursuits and I come from a long line of over-indulgers, wild drinkers and party animals (tweezer-lipped ancestral photographs notwithstanding)

Meet Scale-e; my nemesis. A spiteful distant relative of Wall-e

See the resemblance? Picture courtesy of Softicons.com

But I absolutely refuse to be punished for my lifestyle by my body. Which means there's a price to pay - so at least four times a week I get up at 4am and head for the gym up the road.
My cunning calculations resulted in a regimen of 1 hour on the recline-o-cycle to deliver maximum calorie advantage for the day. This allows me to eat (pretty much) and drink whatever I want without becoming the size of a comfortable dwelling for four (needs some fixing up).

This is not my gym. This is a hotel gym. 2 criteria for hotels - must have a gym and gym must open by 5am.

January is a tough time for those of us used to almost-empty gyms at 4.30am - it brings out The Resolutionites. They come in search of salvation, but few survive beyond February.

'And lo! The Resolutionites appeared to slay the fat monster brought upon them by their feasting ways.
And the Personal Trainer rubbed his hands in glee and said unto them "Go forth and stretch" for they were deep afraid.
And they did. And a mighty groaning rang out and there was much gnashing of teeth and cursing of muscles and some of them wept with pain.
And the gym companies were joyful and there was a great ringing of cash registers in sports equipment stores throughout the land'

Row, row, row your boat...

2012-01-08T08:04:00.000+02:00

A peaceful stretch of the Crocodile River, near Hartebeespoort Dam.

My "Let's go river rafting" suggestion was met with some trepidation by the family. Child No 2 looked shifty and muttered darkly about "commitments". Scientist No 1, usually the first to be up for an adventure, said "When, exactly, do you want to do this?" and Walter (bless) looked at me over his reading glasses and just said "Great idea, let's book"
By "Let's book" he actually means I should go ahead and book it, so I did.
The first booking didn't turn out well. We were due to go on the 30th December, but the owner of the company called me late on the 29th to inform me the guide had just broken his ankle kloofing. No, they didn't have another guide. No, he didn't know when we could do it.
I requested a refund and jumped back onto Google.
There were some sighs (plans had been changed, people put out, and so on, you'd think I'd planned it that way) and more "what time, where, who"-type questions when I tentatively booked the 7th January with their social secretaries.
Of course this required specialised equipment. I bought water shoes and a heart rate monitor.

Not like Scientist No 1's water shoes, but then she does that stuff for a living

I packed a picnic lunch for afterwards, put on a whole bottle of sunscreen and we were off. With Walter it's a good idea to, um, be economical with the truth when discussing times. I told him we had to leave by 7am which meant we got onto the road at 8 and arrived in good time.

Actually we were early and had time to sit around waiting for the others

Child no 2 was NOT amused. Could have spent another hour in bed, at least. This is his FML look.
We were kitted out and climbed into the back of a truck for transportation to the start, which is almost at Pelindaba (lots of joking about how we would all glow green afterwards, which prompted an argument about radioactivity vs. something else which I didn't quite get)

And then schlepped our inflatable rafts to the river bank for the safety briefing

Which had me hyperventilating (I've put my family in danger, GOOD LORD what was I thinking)

I rowed with Walter, keeping a beady eye on him in case he decided to smack me with a paddle if I didn't listen.
"Keep close to the children" I warned him, "I want to see them at ALL times"

And so we set off

Be sure your boat is straight when you go over the weir, and try and do it going forwards, rather than in reverse.

And had a lovely day, child no 2 declaring it "The best family day ever" and all jumped off the big rock when we stopped a little way downriver. Although obviously I went last, waiting to see if everyone survived.

Picture from paddlepower.co.za because obviously my phone was in the waterproof bag

I can heartily recommend it, there are no serious rapids and I floated downriver next to the boat for about 20 minutes in the flat water section, so relaxing.

The year of the garden

2012-01-02T09:03:00.000+02:00

Last September, when Scientist No 1's BFF asked us to host her (December) kitchen tea I smiled airily, said "what a lovely idea" and promptly went into a cold sweat. Misty visions of behatted maiden aunts sipping lapsang souchong from delicate bone china were brought crashing to (the very dry) earth when I looked outside.
Gardens are not for the faint-hearted. Or those paying private school fees.Perfectly manicured lawns, herbaceous borders and picture-perfect flowerbeds are the result of years of investment in both time and money.
Our garden consisted of patchy lawn, a few trees and the odd rose bush. Great for garden cricket, but clearly it wouldn't do for a maiden-auntish kitchen tea.

Before. Walter practicing his putting (or tapping, as I call it) near the water hazard.
This would need an expert. I called my grandmother.

My grandmother has The Best Garden in the World. None of your tweezer-lipped borders for her, it's a riotous assembly of thriving plants, secret benches and shy wild flowers. It is proof positive that you don't have to be a vegan to cultivate an indigenous garden.

'We'll under-plant the Celtis.' Yes, she speaks plant-Latin. 'Dig this whole area over with compost, fetch me at 9 on Saturday and we'll go and buy plants. You'll need stepping stones. Oh and maybe a bench under the tree. Bring your credit card.'

Not to mention the pebbles. For the area between the bed and the paving.

The pebbles confused the dogs.
Walter contrived to be in Khartoum for the pebble-carrying expedition, which I thought was a little dramatic. Until I had to actually carry the bags.

And the stepping stones (donated by a very kind friend who was re-doing her garden, thus saving me the GDP of a small third world country) which sorely tested the TeenyTiny4x4's suspension

Don't put them in a straight line said my grandmother, they should gently meander through the bed

And the bench

We decided on concrete since it's low maintenance. It also weighs at least a ton and therefore can't be stolen.

The Placing of The Bench involved infinite positioning refinements until Child No 2 (aka Spade when on garden duty) threw down his namesake and threatened to leave home. It took a whole Sunday, a spirit level, some levelling spirits and multiple excavations. I'm still not convinced it's entirely right but at least you don't look straight into the neighbour's garden when you sit on it and I became weary of divorce proceeding threats.

Perhaps we should have started with the bench. Then the stepping stones. Then the plants.

And the water feature (an afterthought)
The water feature came later, Walter and I almost so bold as to place it ourselves. At the last minute I came to my senses and called in my grandmother for a consultation. This was a big decision and she brought her engineer husband with her to advise Walter on the use of Ladies' Stockings in Water Feature Filter Maintenance. And to ensure we would have no run-off problems with the final placement.

Putting in the water feature

Working (courtesy of the electrician), but looking decidedly bare.

Sell jewels, add plants and water.

And so we find ourselves, 14 years after moving in to our 'temporary home' finally starting a garden.

1 January 2012, just 12 weeks after starting

The birds guard the water feature, while the bench hides behind a plant whose name escapes me. Yes, it's a Latin plant.

And somewhere between the bench and the water feature Scientist No 1 and I decided that her BFF's kitchen tea would work much better at her soon-to-be-in-laws' new restaurant. And it did.
And I'm planning a forest for the bottom of the garden, so I have declared 2012 The Year of The Garden.

Tiny toadstools in the new garden

2012-01-01T09:05:00.001+02:00

No bigger than a fingernail....

Belly dancing lessons

2011-12-11T06:57:00.001+02:00

No I haven't taken leave of my senses (well, not altogether)

My almost-daughter (the doctor) is getting married next Saturday. It was her kitchen tea yesterday, held at the soon-to-be in-laws' brand new restaurant. One of her friends bought belly dancing lessons for the guests, I can barely move today.

Here the belly dancer demonstrates how to give yourself an appendectomy.

I retired, injured, after about 45 minutes.

Scientist no 1 with the bride to be. BFFs for 18 years.

They went on to movies and then the bachelorette party. I have no idea how they kept going from 11am yesterday until 2.30am this morning.

Meet The Glumms

2011-12-04T05:08:00.001+02:00

Edna and Harold Thick-knee. For new parents they look remarkably unimpressed. I'm guessing it's the lack of sleep.

The chick is so well-camouflaged I thought the ginger cat from up the road may have eaten it. It's quite nerve-wracking for me, I'm sure they are exhausted from chasing neighbourhood cats and assorted predators..

Yesterday morning I sent Walter racing down the road at 4am after the ginger cat, dressing gown flapping behind him; hopefully everyone else was still fast asleep.

Happy birthday Scientist No 1

2011-12-03T05:36:00.001+02:00

It was Scientist no 1's birthday yesterday. She is now "25 with 1 year's experience"

In Knysna, 1987

Just like that she's 25 with 1 year's experience. High 5 for handing in her Master's thesis.

Quite appropriate that one of the Thick-knee eggs hatched then, on her birthday.

Mama bird, looking fierce

Cycle challenge 2011

2011-11-20T07:10:00.001+02:00

Scientist no 1 has crossed to the dark side. Given how I feel about the wretched cycle challenge (which effectively places the neighbourhood under collective house arrest on an annual basis) you would think she would steer clear of it.

But no.

They're back....

2011-11-19T06:36:00.001+02:00

We have a pair of Spotted Dikkops (now referred to as Spotted Thick-Knees for some obscure reason) who have nested in our street for as long as we have lived here.

Their return to the street in late spring is confirmation, for me, that summer is not far behind.

Egg-sitting

I keel you...

Sometimes one will stand in the middle of the road when I'm coming home from the gym early in the morning, almost daring me to come closer. I have to sit and wait for it to calm down before slowly driving on. They are, apparently, monogamous birds so I'd hate to harm one accidentally.

And we can sit in the boma of an evening, watching the bats catching their dinner and listening to the Dikkops calling.

I quite forgot about the Cape Town trip...

2011-11-12T06:56:00.001+02:00

The Angola Airlines 747 was still, as of 8th October 2011, waiting for someone to claim it / give back its engines.

Of the 9 million pictures I took over the Karoo (my seat-neighbour was not altogether sure what I was doing pointing the iPad out of the window and if that required reporting me to the crew for being a potential threat) only 1 was worth keeping.

9/11

2011-09-11T05:48:00.001+02:00

Ten years ago today I flew home from Grahamstown where I had been at Rhodes University for Highway Africa with a few colleagues including one from our New York office.

TV screens were set up throughout the media centre and as we left the lecture hall where he had given his presentation we saw the first images. Small groups of people gathered around the screens watching the now-familiar plume of smoke coming from the first tower. PLANE FLIES INTO TWIN TOWERS was scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

We assumed it was a small plane; a tragic accident, but surely not enough to justify all the news channels broadcasting the same footage? What could cause so much smoke? A little later a jet came into view in a steep turn and disappeared behind one of the towers. The initial speculation was stilled, quickly followed by hands clapped over mouths and wide eyes. People were quite literally struck dumb as it slammed into the second tower. Disbelief and silence in the middle of a media conference.

We drove back to our small B&B without saying a word, my colleague desperately trying to call his New York-based family but unable to get a connection. Our hostess, an absent-minded gentle soul, was watering her flowers and called us over, proudly pointing out the new blooms on some rare bush she was nurturing. We told her what had happened, tried to explain, but how do you tell someone that the very axis of the world has shifted and nothing will ever be the same again? She smiled brightly "I'm sure it was an accident dear, not to worry. Can I pack you some sandwiches for the trip?" and wandered off to switch off taps and re-pot petunias.

Our transport arrived to take us back to Port Elizabeth airport, two hours away by road. The driver got out to help us with our bags, and introduced himself "I'm Rashid, let me help you with that, ma'am" A colleague called me aside "Tell Dan not to speak, the driver must not know he's American" I ignored this and calmly introduced myself. We gave Dan the whole back seat of the combi to himself, he kept trying his wife and teenage sons. The rest of us sat silently, staring out of windows while Rashid fiddled with the radio until he found a station.
I wondered, a few years later, if he knew all along, and had just pretended not to know to try and keep the mood light.
When he dropped us at the airport he turned around and spoke directly to Dan "I do not understand. I pray your family is safe"

At PE airport I searched out the station manager (yes, it's an airport, but they refer to station managers nonetheless) and explained the particular situation we were facing. Our colleague would need a private room, with a working telephone and email facilities. He leapt into action, clearing his own office and laying on a supply of food, tea and coffee. I remain touched by this response; we were not dignitaries or VIPs; but he understood how important this small act of kindness was and how terrified my colleague was for his family - out of touch and so very far away in a home turned frighteningly hostile.

More reports came in; other flights had been hi-jacked, apparently America was under attack. Both towers were burning furiously now, why couldn't they stop the blaze?

There was talk of all flights being grounded, even flights from PE. We were searched and finally boarded our flight home in silence. Dan had managed to change his flight home, bringing it forward by a week and routing via Europe but could not get a connection to the US. He would spend many days in London, waiting for US airspace to re-open and finally making it home via Canada and a hired car. Fortunately his family was safe, but I can't help thinking how terrifying it must have been not to know for so long, watching your city burn from another continent.

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Bath day

2011-09-04T08:58:00.000+02:00

The Burmese are not amused, I bathed them yesterday.

Poor things won't even look at me. It went quite well though, don't think I need more than six stitches, max.

The Siamese made a dash for freedom when she heard the bath water running, only reappeared late last night.

Smog

2011-09-01T08:01:00.001+02:00

The apparent clarity of the air above Johannesburg while you're sitting safely on the ground waiting to take off

is quite shockingly shown to be a lie when you climb to around 5,000 feet

There's around 1000 feet of sludge sitting over Johannesburg. No wonder everyone has been so sick this winter.

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Location:25,000 feet

Another trip

2011-09-01T06:49:00.001+02:00

Happy spring day!

Off to Durban for the day, it's a beautiful day in Johannesburg.

B737-300. Yay!

The Air Angola 747 is still here...

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:York St,Kempton Park,South Africa

The thing about flying...

2011-08-20T08:46:00.000+02:00

at the pointy bit of the aircraft is that you have to have good balance. Who knew?

No, I'm not singing Karaoke, I'm talking to the tower (the boss of the sky)
I always thought it would be my bank balance or eyesight that would stop me from flying. Once I figured out the 'one hour at a time' approach to the cost and had the radial keratotomy I was all set. MyFriendPeter found me an instructor at Lanseria Flying School and I was finally on my way.

Checking the tanks for water or sediment. The engines don't like either.
I even managed the physics part (trust me, 13 different schools is not the way to go if you want your children to understand maths or science)

Messing about on planes. Sigh.
The first sign of trouble was the problem with spins and stalls but I somehow managed to put that out of my head and had, in fact, forgotten all about it by the time I went solo.
Aside: Going solo ranks right up there as the single best feeling in the world. Until you figure out you're ALONE. Landing safely all by yourself is second.
So there I was, in the left hand seat, clearing for another solo flight in the circuit at Lanseria, when the tower told me to "expedite". There was a B737 commercial flight inbound from Cape Town and our paths would cross (in a bad way) unless I hurried up. My instructor advised a steep turn (we were flying an extended downwind leg).
For some reason the powers-that-be decided steep turns should come after going solo. I had not yet been shown how to do steep turns, but how hard could it be, right?
This is what I remember: In the steep part of the turn I felt the aircraft was going into a spin. This ends badly close to the ground; you need altitude to recover. Fortunately I didn't try to correct - I let go of all the controls and told Oscar "Take her" (which he did, straight away) and we landed safely.
When I explained what had happened he told me I couldn't fly until I had been checked out by an aviation doctor. It sounded like an inner-ear problem and hopefully was temporary.
Months of investigation followed. I went from one specialist to the next until I managed to get an appointment with an airforce ENT specialist. The tests lasted hours; but finally he had a diagnosis for me. I have a proprioceptive problem; a chronic form of bilateral vestibular dysfunction most likely caused by otosclerosis. This also explains why I stand in the middle of the escalator - it feels like I will fall over the edge.
From a flying perspective there is little to be done. It 'might' be possible to re-train my brain through G-force training (that machine that spins you progressively faster until you throw up or pass out). Or (if I had a million to spare) I could carry on flying with my instructor and take another 10 years to get my licence (the same theory, train my brain) "I wouldn't recommend either" he said "most pilots with this problem end up breaking planes. Crash and burn"
And so I stopped.
From time to time, when I'm in a plane (passenger only these days) and it makes a steep turn I have to close my eyes and tell myself we're not going into a spin, it's the faulty equipment in my head.

.

There's a lion in the garden

2011-08-13T08:11:00.000+02:00

No really - this chap currently lives next door to friends of mine in Chartwell

Taken on my iPhone, then I used instagram to add the effect. Please note, there is no zoom on the iPhone

His name is Monty and I understand the crime rate has dropped to zero since he moved in.

In the paddock next door is Emma, the star of Racing Stripes

It's this kind of thing that makes people from overseas think elephants walk the streets of Johannesburg.

Another business trip...

2011-08-11T12:05:00.001+02:00

Dear Air Angola
Please come and fetch this poor B747 before any more parts are scavenged. You can just see it's tail in this shot, complete with Sable Antelope emblem.

And my colleague kindly took this early morning taxiing Airbus shot for me since I forgot the mik en druk.

We flew on a Dash-8 to Bloemfontein, where we touched down way past the threshold and consequently missed the exit. First time I've experienced a u-turn on the runway.

Didn't spot the Meerkat sentry from last time...

It was 1degC - there really should be a place to buy sweaters at every airport.

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Look what I found!

2011-08-07T07:21:00.018+02:00

I was looking for something in the TV room the other day and came across my flying bag. Of course it's exactly where I left it when I was grounded, but apparently that part of my hard drive was subsequently overwritten with more important information.

MyFriendMargie had my name embossed on the front when we started flying lessons together. It's so expensive we could only afford an hour every other week (instead of eating, you understand) and we shared an instructor.

Actually, I think it's the best way to learn how to fly. We met at the flying school early on a Sunday morning, sat through the theory together, and then had breakfast at the airport restaurant after our practicals, comparing notes.

July 11 was my last flight, it's when I realised it wasn't my imagination. There was a real problem.

Ah, Cape Town

2011-08-05T06:41:00.000+02:00

I've always been slightly wary of Cape Town. Growing up in Zambia I'd already been to Europe before I ventured that far south, and there is that "thing" to consider (No, not the freezing Atlantic ocean; Johannesburg people always run it down, then they 'semigrate' there as soon as they get a chance. Then they carry on complaining)
Anyhow.
The weather was perfect when I landed on Monday evening and even the TomTom behaved, taking me (almost) straight to the hotel (I alternate. But the other hotel doesn't have free wireless so they're off the list for now). I even managed to find the entrance to the hotel's garage first time around (heeding the car rental's "Don't hand over your keys to ANYONE to park your car" advice)
And I stepped onto my balcony to see this

And met up for pink drinks with my friend Sets the next evening here

although perhaps boots weren't the most appropriate choice of footwear for this outing...

So I fully understand the appeal of the mother city.

The only altercation I had with the TomTom was trying to get back to the airport, when I switched it on it gave me 0m as the distance to my destination. While I was in the city (Jo'burg people tell me it was "obviously in Cape Town mode")

A cold front was moving in and I snapped this with the mik en druk on take-off

And nearly froze when we landed in Johannesburg.

Yes, the Air Angola B747 is still there...

Cr*p! The engines are gone!

2011-08-05T05:52:00.006+02:00

Flew to Cape Town on Monday, thought I'd just check in on my pet project, the deserted Air Angola B747. I check on it every time I'm at OR Tambo International airport in Johannesburg, it's been there all of this year. Maybe longer, since it appears I'm the only person who's noticed it until now.

SOMEONE STOLE THE ENGINES!

Finally bought a mik en druk

2011-08-05T05:46:00.000+02:00

Having gone on and on about buying a mik en druk (point and shoot) camera for so long I finally bought one at the airport.
Yes, I know it's probably not the best price and I also know I should have bought it before the Mozambique trip but at least I have it.
I texted Walter "Bought a camera" he texted back "bought a blood pressure monitor" (he did, really, and there was I thinking it was a comment on my spending patterns)

Problem no 1 - they aren't pre-charged. So I couldn't use it immediately ("You'll need to charge it for at least 8 hours" said the clerk when she'd finished ringing it up) She also pointed out that I'd need a storage card - the camera itself only stores around 4 pictures (could be 40 for all I know, she obviously saw me coming) but I drew the line at adding a pouch to carry it around in.
So I was patient. I waited until I got to the hotel in PE (I had a minor disagreement with the TomTom on the way - Beach Rd is not the same as Marine Drive, what's with the guessing?) and left it to charge overnight.
While I was waiting I thought I'd read the instructions - which only came in Italian, Dutch and French. No English.
Sigh
With the help of some of my Twitter friends I managed to get it right, so I got a sunrise picture in Port Elizabeth

And then also one of the view from the restaurant where I went for a late lunch after dropping my colleague off at the airport

It's a Canon PowerShot A2200. Oh, and I bought a very pretty pouch over the weekend

Snow!

2011-07-26T19:10:00.001+02:00

Snow on the mountains of the Eastern Cape, quite dramatic

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Location:34,000 feet, B737-400

It's still there, poor baby

2011-07-26T14:44:00.001+02:00

The Air Angola 747 is STILL waiting to be taken home...(riiiight at the back)

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Location:OR Tambo International Airport

High finance - don't pay with dollars older than 2009

2011-07-24T12:49:00.000+02:00

When Walter went to settle the bill for our last 3 days' accommodation, bar and restaurant (we had pre-paid the first 3 nights, thinking we may travel further afield after that) we discovered that they don't accept dollars printed before 2009. This was high finance for me, requiring multiple exchange rates (from metacais into dollars at 26:1) and then some negotiation, on Walter's part for them to take the 2 notes printed in 2006. Walter is an extraordinary negotiator, though, exhibiting no impatience and slowly wearing down his opponent with logic and reasonable argument.

Not my dollars, unfortunately, image courtesy of Google images. You have to search for the year of printing, and the manager told us the owner would subtract the amount from his salary should he accept the 2001 bill.

They were firm on the note from 2001, however, which saw us scratching through wallets for rands to pay the outstanding amount (and more high finance exchanging dollars into rands). No, they don't take credit cards (that was on the website, why not the dollars?)

Apparently this is quite common in Africa, although it was news to me. Now you know too.

Of course this meant we didn't have enough cash to buy petrol in Xai-Xai and would have to draw money, which we did. Also important - the banks in Xai-Xai don't have Maestro ATMs so you can't draw from your debit card. The Xai-Xai FNB did take my VISA card, however, so we could draw enough for petrol, snacks and the toll fees.

That would have been fine and dandy, apart from the traffic fine.

We left in dismal weather, with a thick fog limiting visibility to less than 100m until more than half way to the border

Fog at the Xai-Xai garage, can't even see the KFC across the road!

So driving at around 40km/h with fog lights and hazard lights (good trick we learned from the Mozambicans, increases your visibility from behind) and then looking out for the alternative road to the border that allows you to avoid Maputo (to be recommended; the traffic is horrific) by taking a dirt road via Xinavhane to Moamba. The road is not signposted, ("turn right at the big sugarcane field") but I did remember seeing it on our way down. When there was no fog.

As soon as I saw the road I turned, straight into the no entry side with an oncoming traffic police car quite surprised by my move. There was nothing for it, however, I was caught. The traffic officer asked me why I had done it, and mentioned a fine of M1000 (around R250) I owned up, saying I hadn't seen the sign until it was too late, and apologised, "Sir" I also mentioned that we only had M750 but that I could make up the difference in Rands. He declined, pocketed the M750 and got back into his car. So. Not an "official" fine, then, but a fine nonetheless. I think this may have made Walter's entire holiday since it evens the score from our Zambian trip when he was fined for not wearing a seatbelt (although he got a receipt from what he called the "wild-eyed bandits brandishing AK-47s who were about to kill us all and steal the Land Rover")

Not too bad, but not 80km/hr either. Worth it to avoid the Maputo traffic though. "It's like being in the bush" said Walter. "We are in the bush, Walter".

On this section of the journey we probably averaged around 40-50 km/h which is why, after leaving at 06h30 we only reached home at 19h00

We saw more birds along this road than we had at the resort, spotting fork-tailed drongos, glossy starlings, red-winged starlings, yellow-billed hornbills, a grey heron, 2 anonymous raptors (they wouldn't stay still for us to identify them), more kingfishers, a coucal and more cattle egrets. We also saw monkeys in the fever trees, I had been convinced there should have been monkeys at the resort, but we didn't see any.

Arriving at the border at lunch time seems to be a good plan. We politely refused "help" to get through customs even though we were warned by the "agent" that we would face interminable delays. We sailed through in about 30 minutes, even allowing for almost forgetting to visit the South African side. Again, it's not clear where you should go and we had to backtrack to get our passports stamped back into South Africa.

Home.

Day 6...

2011-07-24T11:38:00.000+02:00

Our last day – tomorrow we are off home; we are hoping to do the journey in one day.

A suitably lazy day then, spent reading and eating (what else?) with a final trip to the beach

'bye beach

The pool at the resort, for those who aren't too fond of beach sand

The restaurant verandah. Stick to the chips.

Could there be a better spot for your late afternoon glass of wine?