Feeling a lot better and a lot less grouchy today. Still not 100%, but at least able to properly enjoy my last full day on the island and remember what has been great about the last fortnight. There was a big part of me thinking that I really should get on a boat and go and see some stuff, but then again I realised that that wasnt what this holiday has been about. I wanted to relax, read and recuperate and I decided that is what I should be doing on my last day as well. In any case I wasnt so sure I really wanted to go to the bay where The Beach was filmed and see it swarming with tourists and boats, because that would seem to be against the whole point of the film or maybe it proved the point of the film. Either way I could live without the experience.
The sun was shining and my hammock was calling to me and I decided to start reading Alias Grace by Margaret Attwood, which I hadnt fancied yesterday in my sullen mood, but which today seemed an excellent choice. Indeed its a beautifully written book which hooked me in and gave me plenty to think about and though its over 500 pages I managed to get the whole thing read today. Though it took me until 11.30pm. So I also achieved my latest night of the whole holiday as well! There were a few twists towards the end that I didnt care for, but it was interesting to see a novelist interpreting something that actually happened, and made me keen to have a go at my Rasputin idea the more serious one about the man who killed him, rather than my arguably less historically accurate musical Ra-Ra Rasputin. Though in another sense Attwood is such an incredible writer that it makes one wonder whats the point of even trying to put thoughts down on paper.
I went up for a final beer at the Sunset bar at about 5.30pm and was rewarded with by far the best sunset of the holiday. Usually the sun has got lost in the clouds as it descends below the horizon, but tonight the ball of fire was clearly visible until it ducked behind the island where The Beach was filmed (even the sun is going there now). I love the sun, it will be a shame when it explodes or implodes or whatever it is that its meant to do. Apparently thats not going to happen for at least 50 years though, so I should be dead by the time it occurs. It would make me sad to see it go, so I hope it outlives me. But even if it does, I will still be thinking as I die, that ultimately the sun will disappear, just like me. Everything is so temporary.
A group of young Japanese people arrived today, who seemed to do nothing but take photos of themselves all day long. I know this is the stereotype of the nation, but they were taking so many that I wondered if it was actually part of a photo-shoot. But in the end it was clear it was just some friends, with rather swanky photo equipment, pretty much attempting to record every single second of their stay, to the extent that it must be quite hard for them actually to have any actual experiences as everything they were doing was for the benefit of the camera. They looked like they were having fun though, jumping up in the air in the sea and doing timed shots of the whole lot of them together. As I ate my dinner at around 9pm, sitting on a table outside the restaurant they were larking around in the pool and the camera flash was going off at regular intervals. They will almost be able to do a flick book style recreation of their stay, which will come to life like a movie. As long as they set up the camera to take photos of them while they sleep.
I, on the other hand, although having brought my camera, am proud to say that I havent taken a single shot. Not even of tonights amazing sunset, that everyone else seemed keen to try and catch on film, with their flashes going off (suggesting it wasnt going to be the best of shots!). For this holiday I would prefer to remember manually and record it in words.
Anyway, I had a terrific lazy day and a terrific lazy holiday. I dont think I should be proud of having seen so little and having taken no photos of the nothing that I have encountered, but I am. Thanks for coming along with me, like a huge gaggle of voyeuristic perverts in the cyber-bushes.
