Soaking Up the Sun

About 45 of us crammed ourselves into a bus that fits about 30. All the body parts sticking out of the side windows were quite a sight!

But the end really did justify the means - a day at the Maranatha estuary (in Rastafarian territory) was well worth the agony it took to get us there. Come to think of it, even the painful part was fun. Not to mention memorable.

Once we arrived (in one piece, thankfully) I noticed only two bikinis at the beach. Only on two blefono white girls. My friends explained it’s because the girls here are shy to be seen so exposed.

That’s when I pointed out quite a few couples getting frisky in and out of the water, providing us with front row seats to a late night show in broad daylight. Even fully dressed, they weren’t too shy to be seen exposed if you ask me. I suspect it had something to do with their level of alcohol consumption, perhaps? Pure entertainment I tell ya! (no pun intended)

...after much splashing and funning around....

I’m glad to say that I am at least one shade darker brown, as opposed to many shades brighter red as my previous beach-going record would have you expect. I might be the fairest of them all here, but I’ll be the darkest of them all once I’m back amongst the Lebanese. Aaah, how I miss those cold chilly nights! Ironically, exactly a year ago, I was wishing the exact opposite when I spent December in Chicago. The grass is always greener on the other side...