People look for different things in a vacation. There's the
when (winter, summer, spring), the where (beach, mountains, city, resort), the
why, how much, what, etc. I will not elaborate on most of these bullet points,
save for two of them.
First there is the where. No preference here. I have had
great vacations in extremely different countries, continents, altitudes,
landscapes, you name it. In this case, I will restrict this post to beach
vacations. Next: what do you look for in a beach vacation? Sun, sand, surf?
Maybe a resort hotel that will offer massages, wellness baths, and other beauty
treatments? Then there's the hotel that will offer activities like canoeing,
water skiing, parasailing, etc. Another hotel could be a theme or waterpark.
Whereas activities are certainly a wonderful thing and keep you honest in that you remain fit so that the spare tire remains in the trunk of your car, I am less philosophical about what I want to do during a beach vacation: absolutely nothing.
That's right. We are already assuming you have the sun and the beach, right? Beyond that, I'm fine. Here, I love being a first-class sloth. Maybe a few books to add to the cocktails on the side table. In other words, a Tequila Sunrise, plus two parasols—one that will prevent me from sunburn and the other, smaller parasol sticking out of my glass. Beyond that, I want nothing, really.
And would you know it, I just found the perfect place for that here in Tanzania.
The Protea Hotel resort along Amani Beach is misleading only in its name. It's not so much a hotel, but a series of bungalows situated along the beach. We are assigned to number 10. On the porch of the house, you look out at front of you, and there is a medium sized swimming pool, a nice wide strip of white beach, and beyond that a much bigger pool, the Indian Ocean.
Whereas activities are certainly a wonderful thing and keep you honest in that you remain fit so that the spare tire remains in the trunk of your car, I am less philosophical about what I want to do during a beach vacation: absolutely nothing.
That's right. We are already assuming you have the sun and the beach, right? Beyond that, I'm fine. Here, I love being a first-class sloth. Maybe a few books to add to the cocktails on the side table. In other words, a Tequila Sunrise, plus two parasols—one that will prevent me from sunburn and the other, smaller parasol sticking out of my glass. Beyond that, I want nothing, really.
And would you know it, I just found the perfect place for that here in Tanzania.
The Protea Hotel resort along Amani Beach is misleading only in its name. It's not so much a hotel, but a series of bungalows situated along the beach. We are assigned to number 10. On the porch of the house, you look out at front of you, and there is a medium sized swimming pool, a nice wide strip of white beach, and beyond that a much bigger pool, the Indian Ocean.
The resort itself can't be any more than three stars, but is
absolutely perfect for my requirements. Bungalow, beach bar, pool, beach,
water. Wood instead of plastic, the preferred construction material of
corporations. Less here is clearly more, and the kids seem to agree. For the most
part, they avoid the ocean and play for hours in or beside the pool and in the sand. The arrangement
is perfect. Liebi and I can look out at the ocean all day while keeping one eye
on the kids building sandcastles.
Now some people prefer lively beaches like the Copacabana, Ipanema, Waikiki, whatever. Not me. The emptier the place, the better. And on the 4th of July weekend, there is not a soul in sight except for some local fishermen hoisting their sail on an old dinghy nearby. There are more wooden boats on the horizon, but they are far away, so that the only noise is the Indian Ocean, its waves and a constant seabreeze blowing in. Heaven.
We picked the perfect weekend too, as I learn. Only one other bungalow will be occupied by a French couple, and that's it. What a bargain! So this is what my schedule looks like: lie down in the sun, read a book, order a cocktail, horse around with the boys, lie down in the sun, and repeat. Later I watch the World Cup with the French gentleman—France vs. Germany, would you believe it. The Germans win.
The next day, there are more visitors. An Indian gentleman asks me what activities there are. I tell him I am not aware of any. He and I clearly don't speak the same language other than the English we just conversed in. Clearly, the man didn't come here to do nothing, unlike me.
With that, Aqaba at the Red Sea has been replaced as my all-time favorite beach resort, by Amani Beach in Tanzania, a country known more for its game parks, a mountain, and the exotic island of Zanzibar. With beaches like this, I say the mountains can wait.
Now some people prefer lively beaches like the Copacabana, Ipanema, Waikiki, whatever. Not me. The emptier the place, the better. And on the 4th of July weekend, there is not a soul in sight except for some local fishermen hoisting their sail on an old dinghy nearby. There are more wooden boats on the horizon, but they are far away, so that the only noise is the Indian Ocean, its waves and a constant seabreeze blowing in. Heaven.
We picked the perfect weekend too, as I learn. Only one other bungalow will be occupied by a French couple, and that's it. What a bargain! So this is what my schedule looks like: lie down in the sun, read a book, order a cocktail, horse around with the boys, lie down in the sun, and repeat. Later I watch the World Cup with the French gentleman—France vs. Germany, would you believe it. The Germans win.
The next day, there are more visitors. An Indian gentleman asks me what activities there are. I tell him I am not aware of any. He and I clearly don't speak the same language other than the English we just conversed in. Clearly, the man didn't come here to do nothing, unlike me.
With that, Aqaba at the Red Sea has been replaced as my all-time favorite beach resort, by Amani Beach in Tanzania, a country known more for its game parks, a mountain, and the exotic island of Zanzibar. With beaches like this, I say the mountains can wait.
