Brave New World

I'm writing this (the old fashioned way - pen & paper) on the amazing beach, after a gourmet buffet breakfast of muesli, fruits, omelette, cheeses, pastries, fromage blanc and so much more that even I couldn't fit into my expandable stomach but I'm gonna try them tomorrow. :)
Blue, hardly-a-cloud skies, crystal clear waters, soft, sink-your-feet-in sand, wonderful breeze, then of cos' there's the sun, bright for a tan but not scorching... It almost seems too good to be true. Oh and did I mention the 5-star hotel Christian had booked us into? ;p Pure, unadulterated luxury! We arrived last night without any major hitches, though I did experience the bumpiest landing as we touched down at the Ngurah Rai airport in Denpasar, Bali. And before that my rush from the office to Changi airport.
I had so much work to do I almost didn't make it out of the lab in time.

It's really fantastic to leave everything to the back of my mind now. At least for the few days to come, I shall endeavour to abandon reality. Not that it's a difficult task. On this beautiful island. :D

Reading Brave New World on this holiday paradise seems a bit of a paradox or maybe it's more of a parallel. I don't know. But in any case it makes for a good read.

'Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle against temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.'
- Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

Now and then I put down my book and people-watch. Hunks and babes playing volleyball, gorgeous (not all of them) topless (gasp! My eyes just about managed to stay in their sockets!) and throng-clad (they might as well not have worn anything) women, beer bellies porting men, Chinese covered up like it's winter (yes, long-sleeved jackets. I didn't see wrongly.) taking pictures on the volleyball pitch, posing like they're playing, (geehz, who are they kidding?) locals in similar conical-shaped hats, long-sleeved sky-blue tops, black track pants, dark sunglasses, walked around or merely stood, paddling their wares.

I got up from my comfortable reclining beach chair to put on some chapstick and as it glided onto my slightly sunburned, dehydrated lips, I was hit by a strong craving. For a kiss. A spine-tingling one. Like one would yearn for rich, sinful, dark chocolate.
Ahem... I sat back down and stared out at the sea. Interesting-looking fishing boats, (with a long parallel plank on each side of the boat which reminded me of a pond skater poised on the surface of the water. It must keep the boats stable on such windy seas.) locals standing waist-deep in the sea, fishing, hazy visions of mountains in the horizons. What is it about great big, towering, crashing, frothy waves that are strangely therapeutic? The deep, rumbling sound? The strong waves here break faraway in the distance. Really weird. I've never seen anything quite like it before. My mind emptied for a moment. I turned my attention back to the book.