Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands
Somehow after writing about nitrogen narcosis and women in neoprene, I've completely lost the will to blog.
Near as I can tell, I actually got completely on vacation a couple days ago and stopped knowing what day it was, what time it was, stopped caring what was happening later. All I really cared about was when I needed to be on the dive boat and if it was late enough in the afternoon to get a cocktail, and if I had time before dinner for a nap in the hammock.
I've been mostly wearing a fijian sulu for several days now.
I'm thinking how I should not come home.
Ok. So I need to write about what's happened the last few days before it slips away.
Concentrate now. Concentrate.
Ah. Nevermind. The bar makes a damn good margarita with kafir limes. And it's huge. Ok, it's $15 fijian, but that looks like play money so who cares.
Or maybe the band are playing which means I can go drink kava with them. Mmmm. Kava...