Sea of Skin

While Elise spent some extra time closely examining her pillowcase, Douglas and I decided to get some early morning pool time.

I’ve been called “white” before. I’ve been called “white” quite often. Never in my life have I seen people as white as the English people in Malaga. Some of these people are so white they are practically blue, as though their skin is nearly translucent and you can see their blood running through their veins.
Conversely, there appears to be a tanorexic convention at this resort. The poolside here knows only extremes: people who never spend a day in the sun & people who spend everyday (probably naked) in the sun.

The pool was lovely, but not nearly as lovely as the beach. The water was as pristine as I’d remembered from the train ride up. The sand? Little rocks and much too hot. The water? Full of sharp rocks. (Which my knees and feet tell the tale of with more eloquence than I ever could) Free hanging boobies? Too many. However, sitting on the waterline and letting the waves crash at my knees was probably one of the most relaxing things I’ve experienced in a while--until my calves started to turn red.

Don’t worry, it was only a warning shade. I have managed to last my first day beachside without emerging as a certifiable lobster. Though, at the present, there are a couple hours of sunlight left, meaning a distinct possibility that I may have spoken too soon.

Now Douglas is watching Stuart Little on TV and I remember exactly where I was when I read that book. I read it right before Trumpet of the Swan while in my grandparent’s old place in Palm Springs. I wasn’t joking about that whole “soundtrack of my life” thing from the first post. I had no idea that Hugh Laurie (aka Dr. House from HOUSE) played Stuart’s “dad”. Talk about range!

(Later that day....)

We met Elise after her “Intermediate Spainsh” class provided free of charge from the resort. We decided to head on down to the pool (again). This time we enjoyed the quiet reprise of the “adult pool”. This meant more free hanging boobies (none of which were mine). Then came happy hour.

From 6:30-7:30 the resort’s main bar offers 2X1 specials on local beers, local wines, and hard-A with mixers. I enjoyed two large, cold glasses of Amstel light which being an infrequent indulgence coupled with my empty stomach made for quite a happy couple of hours.

Douglas, fueled on a couple of Rum & Cokes, decided to treat himself to a Turkish bath. Elise and I joined him awhile later. Not completely sure what a Turkish bath is? I wasn’t. It’s something like a sauna but with tile instead of wooden planks. Is it enjoyable? Not in the least. It’s like being slowly suffocated and realizing that you can’t possibly have enough air no matter how many times you inhale. Not quite the feeling I want after two large beers. So after a few agonizing minutes, I jumped into the equally oppressive Jacuzzi.

I don’t get it. The coast of Spain has a wonderful tropical climate, if you want to sweat…step outside.

The lights went out--a sign that the indoor leisure facilities had closed for the night--and so it came time for night swimming in the ocean. Unlike my German predecessors, I opted for keeping my clothing on. (I'm borderline NeverNude--an absolutely legitimate fictional condition popularized on the most amazing and amazingly underrated show of all time: Arrested Development. Check out the link!)

The ocean water is the perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. Never that moment that flashes through your mind: “Are you sure you want to do this? It doesn’t feel very comfortable.” For men I assume it’s the moment when their balls jump into their stomach--or whatever. Instead its inviting, almost like: “This is what home feels like, crawling right back inside the womb.” In the dark of night, there is a sense that the universe has swallowed you whole and you are suspended in space with no grasp of time or purpose. Then you get sand in your mouth and reality steps back in--don’t you hate it when that happens?

After I’d managed to spit out as much sand as possible, the three of us decided on Indian food for dinner. Yum yum yum. Then, exhausted, we summoned our strength for the 100 foot walk back to our room.