We woke to our little girls knocking on our door at 6 a.m. Their faces were smashed against the window next to our door. They were up and ready to swim. Paul and I read for a while out by the lake waiting oh so patiently (not) for coffee that was available at 7:30 a.m. At 7:29 we had our faces smashed up against the window next to the restaurant door. Worth the wait, some of the smoothest coffee I’ve ever had.
Then at 8:30 we had big breakfasts and the girls went swimming while the lake was calm. Cali’s a good little swimmer, but I kept an eye on her. Then they went out in a kayak. Madi remembered going out in a kayak when we stayed here three years ago, and loved it. Unlike last time, she took a single one instead of a double. Cali was about to go out when the lake changed and got choppy. It was a sudden change, wasn’t even safe to swim.
We traded in swim-time for hammock-time. When that became tiresome girls were on the swing. Kier perfected being a hammock fixture, with a book. Time flies when you are doing heavy duty relaxing and it was lunch before we knew it. That’s when we discovered that Cali’s flipflops had gone out to sea. When she was swimming she left them on a step going into the lake, which was untouched by water at the time. But when the chop started, the water came up and took them away. She was very upset, because it also meant she had no shoes until we got home. We told her it would be like all those kids we see who don’t have shoes, she can see what that’s like. Then she said, “Like walking a mile in someone else’s bare feet.” Exactly.
After lunch the older girls were anxious to get home. Madi had some homework she felt needed to be attended to immediately, and Kier had friends texting her asking when she would be back in town so they could make plans. Around 3 we decided to go home, but I could have stayed there until the last boat left for Pana.
The boat was extremely full and we sat in the back. The motor stalled because something got caught in the propeller. The water was so choppy and we were getting tossed around. The boat was leaning left and I thought it may be possible for us to capsize. Luckily we were in a boat that had about 10 newer life jackets, something I’d never seen in a public boat. I tried to reassure Cali that we wouldn’t tip, but didn’t totally believe what I was saying. Good news is that the shore was within swimming distance. The helper guy from the front of the boat scampered across the roof, not unlike the sounds we hear at night in our house, to help restart the motor. Which they did and we were on our way. I was feeling a bit queasy after all that bobbing about, wished I’d had something other than a tunamelt for lunch. I was glad when we reached Pana.
We had to piggy back the shoeless wonder up to a place that is accessible by tuks. Paul and I threw all the stuff in one, and the girls, and then walked home. I didn’t feel like getting into another tuk, hoping my stomach would settle on the walk home, which it did.
When we got home Kier said she had a couple places she needed to be, so I walked her into town.
Later on I went in to hang out with my girlfriends, too. They were in search of the chocolates I’d gotten for one of them when they were sick (Lindors). Couldn’t find them anywhere, Pana is officially Lindorless. A sad state of affairs. We walked around to some different places to see what was going on, but returned to the Porch where they were playing music we could recognize and that wouldn’t damage our hearing permanently. None of us were interested in a late night, so we all headed home.
The town is full party mode. Restaurants that are usually empty are packed out. Bars consisting of a table, chairs, big speakers, have spontaneously popped up in random places. People from the city are everywhere (they wear sunglasses, might smoke, have clothes are more stylish). Not everyone who lives here likes the crowds, but I’m enjoying the infusion of people.