Six months ago my husband said he wanted to go to Hawaii for spring break, and I shrugged 'maybe'.
The flight was booked that instant.
I had missed another baffling subtlety of the English language: maybe is yes when it comes to him wanting to do something. I was furious . He tried to appease me by saying that chocolate flows in rivers there. Yeah, right.
This gave me six months to worry about the trip. I am a terrible pre-travel worrier. Had he told me about the trip the day before I would have thrown a fit, yes, but at least I would have saved myself all the useless anxious thinking.
Worries ranged from an irrational fear of under-packing combined with a compulsion to over-pack (I literally packed in my head for sixth months, it was horrible), to being physically incapable to settle on a place to stay, to skin cancer, to being mistaken for a humpback whale while on the beach -- it can happen--, to checking our reservations again, and again, never remembering the airline, time and airport.
No one can appreciate sitting in shallow, crystal-clear ocean water the way I do. We hiked, we let the waves bobble us up and down, we walked miles on deserted beaches. Whoever said Hawaii is crowded has never been to Kauai in the spring. The quality of the air there is incomparable, it's rich and warm and it caresses all the pores of your skin at once, and it so fragrant, a mix of ocean richness and tuberose. I could live there. And I could definitely blog there.
This was a sensory experience, a respite from being cooped up inside my head. The apartment was five steps away from miles of deserted beach. I had tragically over-packed, and so what. I may have looked like a whale but no one tried to harpoon me.
I loved being sandy, salty, wet, then sandy and salty again. I did not mind my butt eating my bathing suit constantly. I loved seeing nothing but green and blue. I loved the wind and I loved the fishies, the chicken and roosters everywhere, the palm trees loaded up with coconuts.
Nothing that usually mattered immensely mattered at all. Just the four of us in Paradise.
And you know what? On Kauai, chocolate does flow in rivers: I'll be.