Chasing Shadows

CV and I finally got to spend some time catching rays beside the semi-private splash pool en-suite, but he's got the scoop on those details - so catch his blog.

So with a very good sun block on hand (chest, face and legs), we ventured out into the sun, pleased that the walls enclosing the patio helped keep the howling winds at bay. I grabbed my book - a frivolous novel revolving around the Hollywood entertainment industry - and promptly plopped myself onto the deck chair hoping to erase my farmers tan and balance the hues of my lily white shoulders and chest to my far darker forearms.

It didn't take long. A mere hour and a half later, three layers of that cream I now reluctantly call sunblock down and I was starting to feel a little toasty. I retreated into the suite to don a T-shirt and my boardies. But alas I was too late! That slight red hue I observed on my thighs and abdomen was later to reveal itself as my impersonation of a lobster - with a ridiculous white stripe!!!

Sunburn is NOT my friend, and he does come to visit at the most inopportune moments. I can deal with the stinging that follows every movement when the fabric of whatever I'm wearing brushes over my skin and I can even deal with the need to hyper-moisturise to avoid the inevitable reptilian shedding to follow.

What kills me though, is this sad fate: For the rest of our time here in the fairest Cape, I'm going to have to spend my time chasing shadows, ducking the wickedly enticing sun to avoid any further damage...