Varadero beach in Cuba, is a vacation paradise. Miles of white fluffy sand that meet shallow turquoise waters brings thousands of Canadians a year to enjoy it’s beauty. Last week my husband and I couldn’t wait to get down there and enjoy the first day of our vacation. We were greeted at our beach entrance by our cabana man who set us up with a million dollar view under a thatch umbrella. Ahhh, this is the life. Sun, surf, sand and........ what the what?
Yes, it seems that those very worldly Europeans like to vacation here as well and aren’t aware of my uptight Canadian sensibilities. About ten minutes into our lounge fest, a couple from Europe decide to set up camp right in front of us. Where our chairs were facing the water and away from the sun, this couple set their chairs up in the opposite direction so that we are literally staring at each other. As if this isn’t awkward enough, the woman sits straight up in front of me and removes her top. Great. Now my million dollar view is obstructed by a set of boobs. This is so wrong.
They are not even a nice set of boobs I might add. They are saggy, one is bigger than the other and they flop to the side, falling into her armpits. This is exactly what mine would do if left to their own devices, but I’m not opening mine up for critique am I. No, mine are tucked safely away in a bikini top. I look to the left, to the right, I read for awhile but inevitably my eyes keep being drawn to the boobs. It’s not long before we are surrounded by other topless women. It’s now getting hard to avert my eyes.
The waitress comes by to take my drink order. “ Two pina colada’s please and keep them coming”.
Now this is where it gets really fun. Or painful. I’m not really sure. The pina coladas were obscuring my emotions at this point. No, I did not pull a “when in Rome” moment. Instead, topless woman’s husband, who by the way is wearing a Speedo (insert automatic gag reflex here) rolls over on to his stomach and proceeds to pull his swim suit down so that he can now tan his ass. Seriously? Where does one go that they need to have a tanned ass? I’m pretty sure you’re getting all the Vitamin D you need without tanning your butt buddy. I tell my husband that if he rolls back over and tans his junk, I’m outta here.
My discomfort clearly doesn’t mean a thing to these people so I buck up and start to observe. These women are not only lying there with their husbands but they are hanging out with their friends, in more ways than one obviously. They are completely at ease talking to one another as if they were at the coffee shop. Big animated gestures result in body parts flailing around in a most unattractive way. I try to envision sitting around with my BFF’s letting my boobs catch some rays and I get a bad case of the giggles. Ummm, yeah, not going to happen.
So, what do you think? Are you uncomfortable with nudity on beaches? Is this a typical Canadian reaction or am I too uptight? Would you pull a “when in Rome” moment?
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