Chill Out

I remember walking along the beach with Henry. When we found the perfect vacant spot we laid our towels down and ourselves on top of them.  I closed my eyes and let the sun sink into my skin and muscle – melting away the residue bone-chill of a long cold winter.  The ocean’s gentle slosh and gurgle soothed my city-hyped brain, calming ragged nerve endings, relaxing tortured and stiff muscle.

Every so often we plunged into the sea to cool off and wash the sweat from our bodies – the sweat that carried the grime of a thousand nights of herbals and chemicals and carcinogens and stale adrenalin. Our sins were flushed out into the oceans of the world leaving us feeling refreshed and new.
         
The aroma of cooking wafted over to us.  We breathed it in and soon we were salivating and ready for lunch.  I wrapped my Batik sarong over my bikini and we dawdled off along the beach again to find an appealing restaurant.
         T
Through white-washed French doors we entered a spacious sun-speckled room. Its tables were dressed with white floor length cloths, formal silverware settings, white linen serviettes and an array of glasses. An arrangement of pinky-red hibiscus was thoughtfully placed in the middle of each, softening the sophisticated starkness of the white tableware. We were shown to a table with a view and slotted ourselves into the décor.

We ate garlicky Morton Bay Bugs with salad, letting the juices drip down our arms and drank chilled crisp Chablis. Lunch was bathed in our lust for this new life we had embarked on together – away from the rush and grunge of every-day city life. 
Instead of buying another bottle of wine, we decided to pay the bill and leave.
         
The till was at the Bar.  The Barman was tall, square-jawed, muscular and blonde. He sported a wide, alabaster grin. Hollywood. His name was probably Hans or Sven.  I don’t remember.  He offered us a drink.  Some bubbles maybe?  We accepted and perched ourselves at the Bar.
         
I barely remember the stumble back to the Kombi that night, but the following day began with a Bloody Mary.