Random Samoan thoughts as we wait for the ferry

Every resort we’ve been to stocks the same toiletries.
Very appropriately, they are pina colada scented.

Less appropriately, they are made in New Zealand.

My skin seems to be loving our holiday as much as me as it looks very healthy at the moment. Either that or the mirrors at our resorts haven’t been up to much. Although if that were true, I wouldn’t be able to see the semi permanent marks around my face from my snorkel mask. So there’s that.

Something that kept us entertained at the resort we just left was playing chicken with the gas hot water for the shower. We learnt to be quite bold with it, turning it full on at the beginning, pointing to the left where it was marked as ‘cold’, an elementary lesson we learnt very early on. This results in scalding hot water, so you then need to graaaadually move the handle to the right, deciding at what point the temperature is low enough for you to bare. If you keep going, the heating will cut out and the shower will go cold. In this climate that’s not too hard to tolerate, and that’s what I plumped for a couple of times. But it galls to allow the shower to be the winner. In fact, even if you find a tolerable temperature, it might suddenly decide to cut out of it’s own accord. Am I overthinking it, ascribing motives to an inanimate object? Anyway, it kept me on my toes.

I have been the victim of Big Dive all my life! Time and again, dive instructors have told me there’s no better mask defogger than using your own spit. In fact, it’s not true. If you wash the inside of your mask with detergent of any sort, and then rinse it out slightly, your mask won’t fog up at all. What a revelation when Simon told me this trick (only two decades too late). What is the motivation to keep this a secret? I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but…

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