Saturday, April 8, 2017

Pas De Deux

On our penultimate beach day in the spring of 2017, we note that "New France"has colonized early on the beach. At 6:30 am, our beach "cave" on stage left has been taken over so we claim a new spot. A much calmer day has the orange and yellow sails of the catamarans tacking in full view, and I am delighted and surprised to note a pair of kayaks  trailing a paddle boat in the sea. The serene calmness of this morning has little to no breeze and has brought out early morning crowds of families. The bocci ball court is drawn in the sand. Let the games begin!
This second last day passes so quick, it is as if I fell asleep! Time is quick and meaningless in the Caribbean. We make the most and enjoy life at the speed of Cuban life!

Our final day starts early as always. By all indications it will be a red letter day. Four stars. Three Michelin! top shelve! (I do go on do I not?). Vitor, my Cuban weather man and new amigo, agrees with my ratings at 6 am when we meet beach stage left.
"Bueno! Fantastico!" he tells me and then points to the solitary white puff of cloud and in his sign language indicates with his hands the cloud will depart westward. His grin is as big as his tranquility that his simple beautiful life offers him. Vitor's trade mark thumbs up will be missed when we leave.

My morning "Kibble", as Mary describes it, is a mix of cereals with natural yogurt to soften it. This start to the day, breaking my nights fast has been consistent for the most part on our vacation, and always chased or followed with fruits and cheese. We will have one more and last morning "Clap in" before our 9 am departure tomorrow.

Este Noche is the entertainment feature again tonight. I write this inside joke for my family. Readers (if any read these ramblings) can google translate this to understand my long running joke over the years of our Cuban resort visits.

The usual morning tranquility on beach stage left is welcomed. I mentally write more story lines for my Netflix idea of a prison facility that is run at an all-inclusive which rehabilitates rather than punish. I create the humorous dialogues that my series or movie will feature as I stand in line to get "Clapped in" for my kibble. I have changed the name from "Club Fed" to "Club Dump" in honour of, and borrowed from an old friend who I have not seen in a while. Bruce, my friend, and who I discovered Cuba with 30 years ago. We stayed at a 1 1/2 star resort, and I use the word resort with tongue planted firmly in cheek.

This wonderful vacation has been a fantastic inner journey for yours truly. A metamorphosis on many levels as well as several firsts! On this physical plane of reality, I played Bocci ball for my first time. A game that I associated as being for old Italian men in short sleeved buttoned down dress shirts, long black pants with their iconic black socks worn in sandals. Here on the beach, at 10 am the "Club animation" team marks the rectangular court in the sand, as young and old in bare feet, bare chests, and bathing suits, gather to make two teams. One small red ball is tossed, followed by the large 16 silver balls as each team member become fast friends and team mates. Quebec and Ontario n Cuba!

On the spiritual level, my former annoyance that was previously harvested by men and women jockeying for prime beach real estate to surf Facebook and text on their smartie pant phones, is all but a memory. This is a huge first for me, and one of many! From the Portuguese "Oil cake" desert, which after the first and only bite we both declared it and renamed it "Indian rubber ball cake", to the tiny hard boiled delicious Quail eggs we ate one day for breakfast. Six little eggs and I still needed my "Kibble".

A picture is worth a thousand words, and this humble attempt at describing our Cuban/Caribbean experience does little to paint for you, dear reader, the 3 pm scene of tranquility as I gaze out at the calm turquoise waters, sans sound, cochlear processor removed., on our last afternoon. If it were possible to do an MRI on my brain upon arrival, and again upon leaving this slice of paradise, I am beyond certain that my colours on the MRI scan would show the blues of the water, the orange and yellows on the sun and catamaran sails, and the whites of the sand here on beach left. This would contrast the Greys and dark colours on my "arrival scan"

We never know what the future holds, and I have given thought to wonder if I/we will ever return to Cayo Coco. We talk about the "Next time" and I am in a place where I taught myself to Dance to THIS music, and if the band plays in my future, our future, we will then dance again.

But today, at this point in our journey:THIS IS WHERE THE DANCE IS!



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