Sand & Sea: Life on a quiet beach


The sea. The sand. The surf. A tiny resort with a solar system and a few rainwater pumps. A camping tent, a swarm of lightning bugs, and a choir of tropical animals that lull the non-nocturnal to sleep each evening. A daily bout of sun, and a daily rush of tropical rain. A setting where shoes are virtually useless, and where an afternoon stroll for a coconut or a few plantains is a habit. Such is our existence right now. Non-demanding, richly warm, and entirely uncomplicated.


Life here has broken down our necessities and reminded us of what is ‘enough’. It’s ponderous. To think of how little you actually require, how simple it is to have your basic needs met, and to realize that there is nothing more that you could possibly want. We have the ocean at our side, the sun on our faces, and a quiet beachfront.


It’s rural, and there is no commercial influence whatsoever– the closest town is about 20 minutes by boat. Our dependence on the luxuries of the modern world have dissipated. We take pleasure in the new luxuries of the rainforest: seeing red tree frogs scampering up trees, spying the little cayman alligator living in the nearby estuary, the blue water and secluded beach that spreads out in panorama from every angle. And forever in the background, the crash of the waves– our daily soundtrack.


Think it’s unattainable? We’re spending about $10/day for the two of us to live, eat, and drink here. In exchange for our board, we help out around the resort for a few hours a day. We work in the bar, help with chores, and help to keep the place fixed up and beautiful. It’s no hardship. In fact, we wouldn’t want it any other way.


Tags: , ,

Comments are closed.