Don't you wonder sometimes where you were when you seemed to be there? Wherever. I was recalling two excursions that I took to beach resorts where it rained and we had to sit under shelter until it was time to return to the ship, once by a boat assigned to pick us up and take us back to shore, once on a bus with instructions to the guide not to come back until suchansuch a time. Beach resorts are not designed for rain. At the first one there were no chairs, only benches at tables where we were served lunch, but no place to relax until we were rescued. that is, no lounges or sun cots, no backs to lean on, nada. I was stiff the next day and I wasn't the only one. The second place had chairs with backs but the canvas under which we sat billowed once in a while and sluiced water in sheets to the ground/chairs/people below. This is not worth describing but I recalled these two trips because of the guide in each case. Do you remember my report? One guide proudly pronounced herself a Catholic and I forget why but she sang and led us all to sing (on the way back in our rescue boat) "Amazing Grace". The other guide was very large, about the biggest person I have ever brushed up against. He proudly told us that he had lost 82 pounds and was now down to 502 pounds. He also told us that he had earned a Bachelor of Arts degree and qualified to be a guide. He spoke Samoan, his native language, so his English was a real accomplishment, too.

I'll have to go back and re-read my own blogs but I remember these two people very well, not the places but the people. When tourists say they've "done" a place, that doesn't mean a thing, does it? People make the places.