Naminoue Beach

I know I had plans for this afternoon.

Earlier I did manage to locate the train station, turns out it was actually a monorail. The directions said 'train' the signs said 'monorail', hence the confusion. Not that it matters now, in fact I'm having trouble worrying about anything right now.

The second you step off the plane at Naha, you know Okinawa is a bit different, just a completely different pace to the rest of Japan. The whole inside of the airport is completely decked with orchids, right from the start Okinawa just smells different. It's wonderful.

Alighting from the train later, when I was headed for the hostel, I left the air conditioning to be enveloped in a very soft breeze, carrying with it a subtle hint of the sea. Just enough to entice.

I found my hostel, with the assistance of a very helpful cabbie who had stopped in hope of a fare, but who was happy to tell me my destination was just around the next corner. The Base is a decrepit baby pink building which has been decorated in that typical hippie, surfer, stoner chic that is common beach culture world wide. It's well worn, pre-loved but despite this it is very clean and comfortable. It is perfect. I set up my stuff, and refreshed after a nanna nap, headed out to explore.

I know I had plans of where I was headed, I found the beach like I was drawn to it. Like that subtle scent I had caught earlier had taken root and dragged me here.

I pulled off my shoes, curled my toes in the cool sand, and suddenly I have no idea what else I was doing. I bee-lined to the edge of the grey green surf, let it lap over my fatigued footsies, and suddenly the cares of the world just don't seem to exist.

I know I had plans.