After the weekend

My awe of this place is somewhat mitigated by the fact that the area seemed to have calmed down after the weekend. Part of the reason for the intense insanity was a) it was the weekend so all the locals flock to the beaches just like they do at home (funny that) and b) a lot of people in the whole Region flocked to the Carnival (an what else are they going to do during the day . . . ). Having said that, this bay has a very organic feel to it. For example, at around five in the afternoon, just as those shadows creep across the sand, the beach sorta packs itself away. The sunbeds fold themselves up and make themselves invisible. The debris magically clears itself away. The turret-like huts on the promenade swallow up all the empty beer cans and bottles and board themselves up. The mobile vendors hang on for a bit longer, patrolling the surf`s edge for the last potential straggling customer, and then quietly fade away. By early evening, the floodlights paint a totally empty beach a pale yellow to illuminate carefree strolling couples, a few left-over teenage surfing dudes and the ever-present Atlantic surf. All quite wonderful, really. Presumably, in the same Gaian style, the beach unpacks itself in a similar way early in the morning. I`m never going to see that as this well before my rising time but the evidence is all around me as I stagger down for the free breakfast.

(OK, I paint a slightly untrue picture here. A lot of this is helped by a not-so-small army of municipal workers easily identified by their uniform of shocking orange - I kid you not - knee-length socks and matching ¨Foreign Legion¨ headgear and bermuda shorts . They beaver up and down the area all day and night pushing carts full of empty coconut husks (and attendant straws), palm tree leaves, the aforementioned bottles and cans, and all the other detritus left on the beach like manic munchikins on acid.)