Spent a spectacular day at Trunk Bay yesterday with Chris and Carey Gaenzle, friends of the Kitten's (and now mine) from their misspent youth. The Gaenzles (plus two kids) rented a 38 foot catamaran and are bebopping through the British and US Virgin Islands. We met up with them for a day of beach and snorkeling at Trunk Bay, truly a gorgeous beach by any standard.
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| A Kitten in the foreground, a Cat in the background |
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| Northeast view at Trunk Bay |
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| Looking Northwest at Trunk Bay |
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The beaches on the north side of St John are extraordinary--beautiful scenery, calm seas, great snorkeling--the kind of place you want to go with little folks whose ocean swimming skills are still developing.
The Kitten and I continue to have a bit of a debate on vacations. Don't get me wrong--this is sublime. With the exception of the bugs at our house (a group of mosquitos feasted on my knee and thigh last night), I am having an amazing and relaxing time. But here's the catch--I really dislike driving to the beach. I hate the act of loading up a car, the preparation, the deliberateness of it all. Our place is situated on a beautiful bay, and we have access to it from a small beach. This is all I really need. The Kitten however, longs for the National Geographic quality beaches found 20 minutes away by Jeep. And so, we have twice piled into the Jeep for drives to the beach.
Which brings me back to the nature of the debate--I'm deep down inside an Outer Banks of NC man. I like a house on the beach or across the street from it, with a pool. If I want to go to the beach, I grab a chair, a towel and my umbrella and walk. Game over. I'm there, and I don't feel like I have to stay longer than I wish simply to gain return on the investment of lugging the gear across an island. Again--I don't wish to be ungrateful--where we are right now is wonderful and beautiful. But if I'm going to go to the beach? Give me Corolla NC anytime....
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3 comments:
Always pissing and moaning! You could be staying at Château Grimaldi in Antibes and you'd still find reason to bitch.
I'm stuck in the never ending dogs days of summer, in Eastern NC, miles from the ocean, too hot to do shit. But do I get any good news from you? Do I get a little vicarious relief from your undoubtedly expensive Caribbean luxury vacation? Hell no! All I get is whining.
Next time you're down South visiting the home folks I kicking your ass! Count on it.
Duck and Corolla are the bomb, for sure. Spending time with you at your past weekly stays on the Outerbanks changed me. I hated the beach and this was because of my days as a shoebie at the Jersey Shore. You know the drill, pile in the car, race accross the Pine Barrens, down Rt 72 into Manahawkin then the bridge over to LBI. Find a parking spot, get on the beach, bake, get cranky, come home cranky, sandy and sunburnt. Ughhh.
Just having a place to chill out if even for an hour or two out of the sun is where it's at.
meow
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