There are days when I want to go out of the house to have some fun, but knowing that I'll just end up like something placed inside a microwave oven. Nothing to do and nowhere to go, just getting cooked by the heat of the sun as the Earth spins on its axis.
When I got invited to go to the beach by a group of Filipinos recently, I jumped at the opportunity to break the monotony of life here. And I brought Cay along with me. She just loves beaches.
We were told we were heading for Bulgarian Beach. As to why they call it that, beats the hell out of me. The beach is located in the far side of the city from where Cay and I live. When we got there, the place was labeled Foreign Experts' Resort according to their signs.
The beach turned out to be a small strip of land seemingly forcibly carved from the original formation. It didn't really have the natural beauty of the beaches in the Philippine islands. But still, it serves its purpose for those in Tripoli looking for a semi-exclusive place to take a swim. Anyone can enter the place for a small fee.
Foreigners seem to patronize this place a lot. Most appeared European, while there were a few Asians. The beach was also full of families enjoying their weekends. They were all over the place- hairy, pot-bellied dads, moms who look like they enjoyed their cooking too much, and snot-nosed kids running all over the place.
The heat was ridiculous that day. It felt like the atmosphere was just squeezing me dry. I'd have wanted to swim to cool down, but when Cay said the changing rooms were dumps, with one actually being a place where an idiot took a dump, I wasn't leaving my seat anymore. I didn't want the "excrementator" anywhere near me, on the beach or in the water.
The beach was also full of danger. The dingleheads riding motor boats and speeding on jet skis were doing so along the area were most of the swimmers are, oblivious of their reckless actions. These morons may have spent to much time underwater which caused their brains to be on a permanent state of oxygen deprivation.
So, confined to my seat, I though I'd enjoy the view. Meaning turn on the man-cam. There were some pretty sights in nice bikinis, but they were few and far in between. At this point, I would have agreed to hang by a jumbo jet's wings from Tripoli all the way to Manila, just to get back home. With the heat burning like hell, the water not exactly enticing, and the view somewhat dull, things were not going so well for me.
It was also at this time that I learned that Team Pilipinas bombed out of the 2009 FIBA Asia Championship, getting run over by Jordan, which just further added to my misery.
Another good thing is that Cay finally got to go on that trip to the beach here in Tripoli that she's always wanted. And there are still more beaches in Libya we can try. Hopefully, I'll find someplace I can rave about. But hey, at least there was something to do here Tripoli, just for this particular day.