By our fourth day in Cayo Largo Del Sur we had experienced a few beaches. Not including the one by our hotel, Sol Cayo Largo (the temperamental waves stirred up the sand and made for murky waters which held, according to the increasing paranoia of one getting on in age as I am, things imaginary and unseen so therefore were scary and dangerous) we had enjoyed ourselves at the secluded Playa Paraiso, frolicked on the sandbank of the natural swimming pool, and left footprints in the powdery limestone beach of Cayo Las Iguana. We were told of nearby (just fifteen minutes drive) Playa Sirena, the watersport centre of all the hotels in Cayo Largo and their complimentary water activities. Crowds, commercialism, and naff overpriced souvenir stalls be damned! I would never forgive myself if I left paradise without first displaying my shameful ineptitude at rowing plastic boats that look like children's toys.
Playa Sirena is a span of two kilometres of white sand so fine that parts of the beach further away from the water are practically impossible to walk in. Protected from wind, surf, and prudery (while nudism is unlawful in Cuba, 'naturalism' is tolerated in Playa Sirena and even more so in Playa Paraiso), Sirena is a fully serviced beach with a bar, restaurant, sports rental etc.
Starfish are known to gather in large numbers along the tidal flats, where the shoreline is protected from winds.
I didn't see any starfish, but I did find this photo when Google-ing 'Playa Sirena', which made me chuckle---
Huhuhuhuhuhu-huuuuu. I am so simple minded.
Flying the flag for Cuba in their national colours; red, white, and blue.
Chanel 'La Fascinante' lips, Raybans, By Invite Only amethyst pendant, River Island bikini.
While debating who should pull the nearest sun chair over to our spot (I ended up volunteering as tribute) we saw a member of staff pick one up for a lady and then refused her tip because it is his job.
Ironically that sort of enthusiasm and work ethic is what makes people want to tip.
My faithful Louis Vuitton beach bag, Triangl bikini bag which I use to stash my beauty and sun products, and vintage hat.
Ciara, Luxy, and I took a little catamaran out to sea.
Ever the steady sailor, Luxy did the jibbing, tilling, tacking, um...steering? I forgot the rest of the sailing jargon.
I daringly retrieved my camera from my beach bag (which remain unmolested the entire time it was left on the beach, unsupervised. Tourism is extremely vital to Cuban economy and the law deals very harshly with crimes against foreigners, so Cuba is very safe in that regard. If I'd so much as taken my eyes off my bag in Kuala Lumpur it would be out of my lap in seconds) and brought in onto our pedal o.
I let Ciara and Luxy do the paddling because I am the most qualified at taking group selfies, and therefore had to be the one to take one for the team. Hahaha.
The sand is so fine that no amount of sea water would wash it away. Even exfoliating in the shower couldn't get every last grain off my skin. I went to bed that night feeling rather crunchy.
Back to the serious business of tanning.
My beach essentials.
Wella Hydrate mask to minimise the sun and sea damage to my hair. Even so my naturally straight locks don't need a Tangle Teezer but I have one anyway because I can. Nuxe dry oil gives the skin a shimmery, golden glow that enhances a tan and looks especially good on collarbones, decolletage, and limbs. I spare myself premature ageing by slathering on P20 SPF50, it says 'once a day' and 'waterproof' but to be doubly safe I reapply it on my face after swimming. Garnier Ambre Solaire aftersun 'melon' sorbet saved our skin. We'd leave it in our hotel room's fridge and after a day in the sun, the cold melon sorbet on our skin was bliss like no other. Napiers Natural organic Bugbuster cream was my nightly moisturiser. The citronella, eucalyptus, and peppermint scent was so refreshing and even now the faint scent of it wafting about my bathroom cabinet soothes me. For more hardcore mosquito protection the girls and I would wear Jungle Formula or as we called it 'Eau de Deet'. And of course, my L'Occitane beach towel and Raybans.
But, nothing I brought with me could prepare me from getting stuck in the sand like a beached whale...
Someone throw Shamu back into the sea.
This seems to happen a lot. My foot will get stuck in the wet sand, I'll get too lazy and heavy to lift it out, so I just wait for the waves to shake me loose or shock me cold into getting up.
Oh oh oh oh wait, the tide is coming in.
Success! This whale will live to beach another day.