Guess how many hours S and I can swim before someone tells us we should get out of the water? I think 4. This little bay is protected, so the waves are so soft, some times no waves at all. This afternoon we had lunch by the water, and it started to rain. The waiter was very confused that we didn’t want to move inside. We were sitting there in wet swimming suits anyway. We both said, “why would we move inside? We are getting back in the water anyway!”
We saw a tiny crab floating in the water, and we found some sort of floating rock that we tossed back and forth. We joked that it might be a foreign charcoal briquette, or jungle turd, or a beach something… turns out it was pumice.
When we were walking back to change for dinner, the landlord was walking by, barefoot, no shirt, carrying huge load on his shoulder. He said we now have a pump and water storage, so we can have hot showers now. Then he laughed cuz me and S were dripping wet, carrying our flip-flops, obviously been swimming.
It’s a rough life…