beaches

Many people often joke about my deathly pallor. Heck, I often joke about how ghostly white I am:

• Casper the Friendly Ghost white
• Lightbulb white
• Fishbelly white (my favourite)
• Insert your own description here

And it's all true. I'm pale as can be. Moreover, it really does take some effort to stay that white. Vacations to the wet, cloudy cool climes of BC, or to Sweden or other places where sunshine is a suggestion rather than a frequent reality.

It may then come as a shock to you three or four out there that read this to learn that I rather like going to the beach. I love the views, I love walking in the water, I love swimming given warm enough temperatures. I don't love the potential for Portuguese man-of-war, I admit, however.

Our first full day on Oahu we were keen to get in a drive, stop at our favourite bookstore in Kailua, make it to the shrimp trucks for lunch, and otherwise see what we would see. So it was that we stopped at a small beach on the windward side of the island and headed to the water to feel it on our toes. And ankles. And calves. And soaking the bottoms of our shorts. A cloudy day at that point, but the water was comfortable, and we were glad to splash that little bit.









Come the Monday, our plan for the morning was real beach time. Back to Kailua, this time to Kailua Beach Park. We'd once had lunch there and always wanted to come back and relax on the beach. Slathered in sunscreen, we lay on our mats and towels for a couple of hours, defying the jellyfish warnings and dashing into the sea for some bobbing around. The sun was bright that day, good and warm, and just to make everything perfect, a couple of green sea turtles kept showing up just offshore from us.