Sometimes the temptation to scandalise is irresistible, though I suspect this one might turn round and bite me in the face one day.
At the urging of the husband, we spent the day at a nearby deserted beach. Some friends of ours also came with us, bringing along their adorable 3 year old daughter.
We got out of the rickshaw, trekked past a restaurant, behind some huts, over a few stone walls, through a football stadium sized mass of emptiness, then emerged past some palm trees onto the most heavenly site...a naked man taking photo's of a naked lady sprawled lavisciously on some big rocks. Very amusing. (It's the first time I've seen the photographer game enough to strip off as well for a saucy shoot - well done I say.)
The sand was fine beige powder, the water the perfect warm temperature, and the blue-green sea so clear you could see the bottom, and soft as a plush carpet underfoot. Even the waves were tailor made for perfection, softly lolling - neither too violent nor too placid.
Beach perfection in other words.
After lunch at the only shack in the vicinity (where nothing on the menu was 'available' except for some rice and beans, and a seemingly limitless supply of bottled Mountain Dew...go figure), I was urged to go and look at the two little ones. They were hidden behind a wall outside the restaurant, sitting amidst a pile of discarded liquor bottles...having the time of their young little lives.
I was torn between amusement, shame, and fear, lest they cut themselves on the bottles. However they seemed content to merely peel off the labels, and so 'amusement' won out and I snapped a picture, giggling quietly so as not to disturb their little game, then left them to it.
It was only later that I regretted this decision when the husband and I heard sporadic smashing sounds and I ran behind the building to find Dumpie, by himself this time, lobbing the heavy glass bottles overhead, onto the adjoining wall, smashing them to smithereens...utterly delighted. Oops.
Oh well. At least we didn't lose them today - something we're getting pretty used to, as they have now morphed into filthy, little, wild beach bunnies who race up and down and in and out of beach shacks with the growing pack of other children whose parents have also scarpered from 'civilised society' in order to raise their children in a 'different' environment...
...an environment where playtime revolves around chucking about some empty whiskey bottles...