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Dirty Dancing in Paradise

January 3, 2015

My last 24 hours in paradise, have been just that.

I had a typically lovely breakfast yesterday, by first solo breaky and then headed out for a solo snorkel. It was, as it has been, heavenly to be down with the fish and their bright personalities.  After lunch, I returned my snorkel gear and headed to my hammock, where I did my patriotic duty and downloaded (for $6) and watched the terrible terrible film The Interview (made somewhat better by the fact that I was indeed, in my hammock at the time).  That was followed by an hour long balinese massage, which was bliss. The massage hut is on stilts out in the water and there is a little hole cut out of the floor so you can watch the fish below swim by as you are rubbed to oblivion.

Sunset brought with it a pina colada served in a cocoanut and a seaside/poolside band – who played cover hits into the night.

This morning, with no snorkel gear, I decided to try the infinity pool for a swim. I finally get these things. It is a bit longer than a typical pool and though I haven’t done laps in years I did about 22 of them (in a typical pool we always used 44 as a mile, no idea if that’s true, but it’s always been my rule of thumb).  I could hear the great Stevie Ma’am, the woman who taught me an generations of girls to swim, in my head as I pulled myself through the water “strong strokes, but make em purdy!”

I’m leaving paradise in a couple hours, so my final moments are on my little veranda looking at the water and feeling the breeze.

The Maldives were a miracle location for me. This place is a bit like a Catskills resort – all inclusive with a  selection of planned activities and plenty of feel time. The evenings are filled with bands and dancing, film night and karaoke. The buffet dinners are delicious, despite every protein being wildly over-cooked. While everyone one knows Nicola by name, they’ve begun calling me “American.” Indeed, when I was introduced to other Brits,  Nic mentioned my upgrade, to which Hal, the brit, responded good-naturedly “did you complain? you Americans and your entitlement.” He meant it lightheartedly and that’s how I took it, but I suspect that there is a bit of that assumption in a place like this that very rarely sees American travelers.

I shall spend the next 30 hours or so making my way back home. I have a lay over in Abu Dhabi that I’m quite looking forward to.  I will see you all in New York on Sunday morning.

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