The Lovely Husband and I had a three day weekend away, all by ourselves, alone and un-teenaged. It was lov-er-ly. We were able to get a special at a beach side resort. Our room was on the nose bleeding first floor. We had uninterrupted views of the tin roof below us and the pool. We had glimpses of the ocean between the other high rises. But we were more than happy. We were a short walk to a plethora of cafes at the beach. Our room was comfortable and we had a king size bed (actually it was two king singles put together) and six pillows. You know what that means? PILLOW FIGHT! We are so mature. It was such a large complex that the car park confused us endlessly and the number of walkways had us lost more than once. We are so sophisticated.
It pelted with rain the first day and we both had some sort of four our stomach bug, me first then the Lovely Husband. This weekend was looking a little dodgy at first. But our illnesses subsided and the rain cleared away leaving the next two days to be enjoyed thoroughly.
We shopped, caught a show, ate seafood (some of which probably gave us the gut issues), we walked endlessly along the beach and worked our way through the coffee shops.
The above sign was situated on the steps of an older style motel on the water front. It tickled my funny bone. Does one walk around looking up at the coconut trees hoping to dodge a falling nut?
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