I really don’t know where to begin this story, so will start when I realised there was a story. I’ll fill in the details as necessary.
The beach volleyball game started without me. We play every Sunday morning. Me, my husband Geo..(.I’m the only one who calls him Geo. Some call him George or Georgie or G). and six others whom we rarely see anywhere but this beach.
We work for a multi-national, as do others who hang here. We’re situated in a house in walking distance of this hotel. Some reside at this hotel, some in other houses.
It’s an okay hotel. This is where they put you when you first arrive on the island. Then they give you a list of possible houses or apartments they will rent for you, if you want.
Geo and I grabbed a house just down the road. It was on the beach, quiet, perfect for us.
Weekdays we went to work, (we were in different sections and had different schedules). Rarely we might meet for lunch, but usually not. In the evenings the first one home cooked, or we would eat out somewhere.
On weekends it was pure ‘our’ time and we’d play volleyball every Sunday morning.