Once you get into the flow of things, a daily routine, work and life consumes you, living in Goa is a lot like anywhere else, in that you tend to ignore that which you have in abundance, and easy access to. The beach, for example. When we first moved, we’d religiously spend weekends away, driving 30+ kilometres away to adequate scenes of sun, sand and sea. That waned off after the first 6-odd months, and we’d make an attempt to go to the beach at least once a month, or when someone visited.
That petered down completely when I joined full time work. Weekends became sacred, and spending them at home together became the norm. Still, we’d pull ourselves out of the rut every now and then and take ourselves to the beach for a break. But there’s no denying it took effort, and it wasn’t easy to do it often.
And then there was the holiday in Thailand and Sri Lanka that has really spoiled beach visits for me. There have been numerous visits to the beach here in Goa but absolutely no swimming. Nothing less than pristine sands and blue water tempts me to get into the water for a swim. Sigh I know, I’m spoiled!
Until the birthday rolled along early this month. Perhaps it was the company or the general mood, or most likely both, but I suddenly wanted to swim. We also got tremendously lucky that weekend, with the moon exactly mid-cycle giving us just the right amount of churn in the sea, enough to feel buoyant but not too much that it makes it impossible to enjoy.
That weekend was utterly blissful as far as the sea goes. I loved being back in the water, getting tanned in the afternoon sun and driving back home at sunset with salt in my hair and just soaked limbs.
Breaking the hiatus triggered the urge to be back in the sea again. And so last weekend P and I went back. And an afternoon of cocktails, food and swimming was had. I realised again how fortunate I am to live with a swimmable sea so close at hand.
And again I reminded myself that I must get out more often. With anyone, or alone.
And of course, over the course of the year I’m going to forget this realisation that hits me only like every. single. year. And I will lapse back into the kind of ennui that hits us blessed beach-side-living people.
And then next year, around this time, right on cue, I will write a post about how I really must. go. to. the. beach. more often.