THE WHOLE TRUTH

What people post on Facebook is usually the "highlight reel" of their lives.  I have posted some real reels at times, but I too mostly try to post personal things that are palatable and perky.  (Except for politics, which is generally neither.)

I've posted a daily log with photos of our current Kauai vacation.  It's been fun.  I love to travel vicariously when others post their trips, so I posted mine for those who care.  It's also a bit of a travel diary.

But any true diary must also dive into the depths and not every picture is perfect.  Here is the whole truth as I recall it anyway.  Truth is a momentary thing; everything changes moment to moment, and details get lost or buried under more recent events and memories.  Still...

This has been a GREAT trip overall (3 days to go, so I'm being optimistic about the rest of the week).  Hub and I have been super compatible, loving and easy with each other.  We've been through a rough patch over some period of time, as astute readers have surmised, but we are good now and incredibly grateful for it.  We learned so much about ourselves and each other at this age and stage of life and we are recommitted in a new way in our 70's decade.  Onward!  This trip has been honeymoon quality -- even as we approach our 50th anniversary.  So there are no qualifiers on that part of the highlight reel.

Still, living in a 320 square foot studio condo, (not counting a small balcony with a killer view) with only a refrigerator, a microwave, a table, two chairs, and a Murphy bed, is quite cozy.   We've more than managed (thanks to nightly grilling on the grounds), but we've both mentioned it would be nice to spread out a bit.  Things get cluttered and there is no privacy and if one of us is awake, we both are...you know, that sort of thing.  It gets a wee bit claustrophobic, but we are outdoors most of the time, so there's that.  We live in a tiny house here!  All the rage!

Our location has seemed noisier to me this time.  We are not out in the boonies -- there is a commercial area not far away; a couple of restaurants; a smaller adjacent beach used by mostly locals at all hours of the day/night with someone's booming bass blaring from their cruising cars at times.  The grounds are beautiful and that doesn't happen by magic: there are times of mowers, blowers, and trimmers making noise.  Planes fly over on their way to land at the nearby airport, but this is not as big a deal as you might think -- the airport is close, but flights are few and the pounding waves mostly drown out the engine noise thankfully. There are frequent overhead helicopter tour flights though.  And people. Turns out we are not the only people here.  The beach is not crowded, but it can get noisy with voices, yelling, laughter, kids screaming, music playing.  It's just people having fun, but I'm just noting it's noisy.

And did I mention the waves?  I know, it's crazy to complain about the beautiful, supposedly peaceful rhythm of the waves hitting the shore, but you guys!  It's loud!  And relentless!  We are super close to the ocean. We've had particularly high waves in the bay this time and they don't lap at the sand, they crash!  At first we left the balcony doors open at night but after the first 10 days, I started to close the doors.  I found I was less distracted by the occasional hum of the air conditioner.  I slept better.  (I'm very noise sensitive, which I am learning more about in some work I'm doing with my therapist -- another blog post!)

Speaking of sleeping...the pillows are too lumpy and the studio Murphy beds, which used to feel great, are in need of replacement.  I mean, it's not terrible, but it's not great.  I'm putting a word in to our Board of Directors to use some of our maintenance fees for a studio update on the bed front.  Bad pillow = sore neck.

Here you are wondering...Murphy Bed????  Yes,  this entire timeshare is a "hotel conversion", not purpose-built full amenity condos.  We knew that going in and if I have any complaint it's that. There are inconveniences.  But we keep coming back for all the things that make up for it.  

The unit we have is a one bedroom with a "lock off".  If we stayed in the whole unit we'd have a King bed in a separate room with another bath along with our current living area (couch without pulling the Murphy Bed down) and kitchenette.  BUT that would cost us a bunch of timeshare points that would mean a shorter stay.  We can stay over twice as long if we use only the "parlor" side (I call it the studio) which eliminates the King bedroom/second bath, but gives us the Murphy bed side with kitchenette and full balcony.  The bedroom side is "locked off" for use by another guest, similar to adjoining hotel rooms and theirs is basically just a hotel room with a mini-fridge; no balcony.  So we like our arrangement fine.  Except for the lumpiness I'm experiencing this time.

We make way too many trips to the grocery store.  Granted, Hub goes alone at times, but we also try to combine this chore with other outings so I have to set foot in Costco, Safeway and Times (local supermarket) too often, which at home I rarely do, leaving grocery shopping to Hub who seems not to hate it and in fact enjoy it. Not my thing. He's weird.  Anyway in the quest for fresh fish, bagged salads, ripe fruit, and sunscreen it seems we always need to shop.  

And there is lugging -- towels, paddle board, backpack to the beach; groceries and excursion equipment from the parking lot to the building (a good 1/3 mile!), long hall to the elevators and a walk to the beach and pool -- getting lots of steps and it's fine, just at times inconvenient.  We try hard not to forget anything and have to go back.

This has been the most active vacation I've ever done.  I've recently lost weight, gotten in better shape, and have enjoyed challenging myself and my new body as well as my less hesitant, less fearful mind.  That said, my body hurts.  The mud hike (previously documented in this blog) sent me into a tailspin of PTSD and migraine for a day.  Then a few days later another half-day migraine with nausea.  My feet have been sore, my knees have ached.  I stubbed my toe on a hunk of lava rock and scraped my hand on a piece of coral.  Both still hurt a week later. I've taken more Ibuprofen in two weeks than I usually take in months!  And throughout all of this trip I've had nagging queasiness on and off.  Maybe different routine? Food? Activity?  Anxiety? Not sleeping great? Just feel a wee bit "off" at times, even when I'm having fun.  It's not stopping me; I'm just noticing and breathing through it. But I don't like it.  

So, today I started packing, if not in my suitcase at least in my mind.  I can tell I'm turning toward home even while still here.  It's cold and rainy at home; there will be all the same old chores to do and responsibilities to meet. Once there I'll look back on this trip with great fondness and probably even longing for lazy days at the beach and pool, for the sun, the warmth, even the waves.  But I'll have Hub with me (the best part of this trip), will return to my familiar routine, and will see my family and get ready for my son and daughter-in-law's long-Covid-delayed wedding celebration for which I have to buy a fancy dress...my life will return to "normal".

We've been coming here for almost 25 years.  We love it.  All of these observations are just to document that Paradise can be less than paradisiacal at times, especially if one is a bit hot, cranky, tired.  The Facebook highlight reel doesn't tell the whole story, but hopefully it tells the story of how grateful we are to get to spend time here.

Still, travel -- even fabulous, fun, exciting, relaxing travel -- is stressful for me and at a certain point home beckons every time.  At heart I'm a homebody.  And I'm ready.

At least, that's the view from here...©

REEL LIFE AND REAL LIFE

On our Kauai vacation, I posted photos to my Facebook page almost every day.  Some people love to see others' vacation pictures (I DO!) and others do not (so "hide" me then), but I post mostly to feel not so far away from my friends and family.  I love seeing what they are up to and I assume they might feel the same about me.  I think Facebook is an interactive medium, so much so that if I'm FB friends with people who never "like", comment, or post, I unfriend them.  Why have people hanging around watching my life unfold without any commitment on their part to reciprocate or participate?

Anyway....on one post of the vacation a friend of mine said Hub and I looked like "poster kids for living the good life in retirement".  And I replied, "Remember, FB is 99% highlight reel!"  And it is. Some folks post about life's challenges, but not very often.  Most posts have a positive intention; a happy face or an educational and/or inspirational message.  Photos are usually framed to best effect and selfies can be taken over and over to get the best pose.

So, in the interest of revealing the "real" behind the "reel" let me list the ways in which the vacation was NOT the tropical perfection it might have appeared to be:

1.  Packing.  I do not like packing and I tend to pack really light.  Too light this time.  I got really sick of my clothes.  I keep notes year to year and my notes said to bring less this year, so I did. But I forgot to factor that last year we were there for 11 days and this year we stayed 16 days.  It made a difference.

2.  Flying to get to/from Hawaii.  Hate it.  Hate every single thing about it, starting with the drive to the airport.

3.  Clouds, wind, rain.  OK, it was warm even when it was cool.  You know, that stuff is relative.  I haven't had that warm breeze on bare skin feeling since last July.  But a couple days the clouds didn't lift and mist and showers and wind made for less than ideal beach weather.  In my mind I always picture blue sky, sunshine, and long, cooling dips in the pool. (Kauai is the "Garden Isle" for a reason -- it rains.)

4.  Somewhat cramped quarters.  Our timeshare is a "hotel conversion" meaning the units used to be hotel rooms.  They remodeled to include small kitchenettes with a sink, microwave, and small 'fridge, but basically it's a one-room studio apartment,  which feels smaller the more our stuff gets strewn about.  Also we have to make umpteen trips to the store for supplies due to sparse storage space.  BUT, we have an oceanfront view that is to die for.  Trade-offs.

5.  Costco trips.  I do not like grocery shopping.  Hub does most of it at home, but in Kauai it seems we combine the Costco runs with other outings so I am generally there every 2-3 days to buy more fresh fish, salads, yogurt, etc.  Our staples.  (See dearth of storage space above.)

6.  Lugging.  We could pay for valet parking and lugging assistance, but we, like 99% of guests, don't do that.  We park in the big lot and schlep our stuff from our unit to the lot (or vice verse) which my handy Fitbit tells me is 1/3 mile one-way.  This means anything we take on outings, we lug.  We lug groceries.  We lug snorkel gear.  We drag suitcases.  I tell myself "more steps!" on the daily count, but sometimes, well, I'd just like it all to be a bit more convenient, cuz it sucks to forget something in the room and have to go back.

7.  Noisy neighbors.  Generally the people here are pretty quiet.  But we had a trio of women next door to us part of the time who seemed to be on a bender of general LOUD hilarity, starting around 7 a.m.   One of them leaned over her railing one evening, drink in hand, to inform me (as I sat quietly reading on our balcony) that they left their husbands home and were here for a good time.  OK, I get that.  But not all of us have a good time at such high decibels!  With everyone having their doors open to the ocean and breeze, voices and raucous laughter carry. The walls are well insulated for sound, but we could still hear them through our adjoining wall, which is rarely the case,  so we knew they were louder than the general population.  Annoying.  The older I get the quieter I like it.

8.  People.  My introvert needs alone time.  But I didn't come to Hawaii to sit in my room.  So I have to mingle with people, observing if not actually interacting.  I already wrote about the day I saw a wife berating her husband publicly.  I also had to witness a mom repeatedly smacking her 4 year old little boy in the chest with a half-empty plastic water bottle admonishing him to "stop crying" -- the logic of which has never made sense to me, not to mention the heartbreak I felt at this scene of "discipline", which in my mind is abuse.  This kind of thing sticks with me, being the highly sensitive person I am.  (I saw lots of loving families and lovely people too.  Aloha-Spirit prevailed, mostly.)

9.  Nighttime adjustments.  Not my bed.  Not my bedroom.  I couldn't ever get totally comfortable in the bed and fought with the pillow.  I was either too hot (with door open to night air) or too cold (with AC blowing on me).  It was a bit noisy with door open (crashing waves, cars in the distance, people's voices as they walked by, roosters crowing all night long) or with door closed (AC fan starting and stopping).  The built-in nightlight in the bathroom was too bright, so I had to close the bathroom door.  The peepholes in the door seemed to create a laser light effect shining the hall light directly into my eyes as I lay in bed.  The WiFi router flashed a green light all night on the wall.  What's up with all that light???  We all have our idiosyncrasies (me = light and noise) which get amplified away from home.

10.  Homesick.  This time I actually did better than usual.  But there were a few days (the two when I was not feeling well and spent all morning in bed, especially) when I just wanted to be home in my own space.  I thought of my friends and family every day and was so thankful for texts and FB to keep me connected.  I missed my yoga studio, my coffee with friends, our family dinners, hugging my grandgirls.

So, yeah.  I realize how absolutely fortunate I am to be able to travel and to take this annual trip to Hawaii.  I appreciate it with all my heart.  But it's not perfect.  Nothing is.  Beware the highlight reel; there is real behind the camera.

At least that's the view from here...©