yesterday afternoon, Beloved and i roused ourselves from our late-afternoon sun-induced siesta and left the grounds of the hotel for the first time since we arrived late friday afternoon.
we drove a few miles up the narrow road that winds along the beach to kona. we found a place to eat that Beloved remembered from 30 years ago, and walked out to the pier, where the locals were fishing in the last fading light.
kona is a lot like all the other resort towns i've ever been to - full of braindead tourists, t-shirt shops and mountains of souvenirs. i know i wouldn't want to LIVE in kona, but i'd be perfectly happy to look at it... from a house up on the mountainside, where the dusty roads disappear. its the same way i feel about the ocean and the fish - i have no wish to swim in water that has so many fish in it, but im very content to look at it.
but then what will you do in hawaii, asked a friend when i shared my admittedly unique outlook on my preferred activities while on vacation.
absolutely nothing, i replied with a deep sigh of anticipation. hawaii's the only place on earth i've found where i can do nothing, and not feel guilty about it in the least. just yesterday i had the thought i might want to try out the fitness center while we're here. and just as quickly, i had another thought: maybe tomorrow.
and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.