I chose Moorea for Cody and I to settle for a while, as I had heard Bora Bora was permanently awash with honeymooners. I thought there’d be more likelihood of Mr Sociability hooking up with other school holidayers his age on the big island.
(Correction: don’t say hooking up Mum, that means, like, get with, not hang out with)
I thought there’d be more likelihood of Mr Sociability meeting other school holidayers his age on the big island.
That’s also why I chose a relatively big resort – more chance of teenagers. Concurrently, there is also far less chance of kindred spirits for the red head but believe it or not, it’s not all about me.
As it’s turned out, there are very few teenagers making an appearance yet. Maybe they’re still asleep. (Cody would be if I hadn’t woken him at 930 for a swim). A lot of French tourists, sprinklings of little kids, couples, family groups, that’s what I’m seeing so far. And us.
The resort is sprawling. 27 acres of indolent tropical gardens (I read this number, I didn’t walk it with a pedometer) nestled between the mountains and a tropical lagoon, with upwards of one hundred thatched bungalows snuggled in amongst it. There’s the obligatory horizon pool with the swim up bar. There’s plenty of white sand. There are a lot of palm trees. There’s a lot of blue sky.
Our bungalow is one of those over the water cribs that people post on facebook on rainy days wishing they were anywhere but where they are. I can confirm it’s just like the pictures, pretty special all right.
This morning at six there was not a breath of wind. While my boy slept, I was on the balcony doing my yoga stretches like a supermodel on vacation. No, I actually was.
I’ve been to many of these places over the years, but have yet to be accepted by the tribe. (Not that I’ve tried hard, I must admit). I can’t rock a high blond pony and I doubt I’ll ever own white pants. I can’t for the life of me see the connection with animal print and muslin. I don’t travel with a big enough possie. I can’t sunbathe. My skin is impractical. I like the water but I’m never convinced it likes me.
But I am grateful all the same.
I am grateful to be here with Cody. I am grateful for his health. I am grateful it is warm, so very warm. I am grateful I am present enough in my own life to actively curate these memories for us. I am grateful I look better in a bikini these days (I may not be keeping my mouth shut more often, but I’m a lot better at putting less in it).
I am grateful that I am remembering to be grateful.