Away from the Shore

While Andrew took a nap on our first day in Boracay on Saturday, I went for an afternoon swim in the ocean. I love the ocean. Coming from urban Toronto, swimming in the ocean is always a treat.

Andrew and I had strategically placed Boracay as Leg 3 of our trip - after an adrenaline rush first leg in Beijing and a calmer but still jam-packed second leg in Hong Kong and Macau (more on Macau later). In Boracay, we had always planned on being comatose vegetables baking in the sun.

We've been to Cuba as well as Punta Cana and Peurta Plata in the Dominican - and the beach in Boracay just kills them. The water is so nice, clear and warm. The ocean floor is pure white powder, no rocks at all. I stomped my feet a few times, creating mini sand storms in the water.

I floated and swam lightly on my back away from shore and then did light breast strokes back. I kept repeating this - over and over - and lost track of time.

As I swam on my back and looked up at the clouds. the gentle afternoon sun glazed my face and body. I thought about the stressors in my life - whether it was work, stupid fucking idiots, personal insecurities, etc. Every time another item emerged, I closed my eyes and did a gentle back stroke away from shore.

Having seen Jaws one too many times, I made it a point to swim back to shore from time to time. But during one trip away from shore, my feet searched for the floor and did not immediately find it. I had floated away much much farther than wanted. Freaking out, I swam quickly like a mad duck back to shore.