Ty'hoons' and Beach Nazis

The Japanese are a bunch of partypoopers. In Australia, people would be out in cyclonic weather, swimming, surfing, being idiots, OK, they wouldn't be normal people, but with the Japanese, if there is even the mere whiff of a storm, then everything closes down just in case their shoes get wet.

We arrived at our resort in Okinawa on a Wednesday afternoon after an interminably long flight (3 hours with no food) and bus ride (2.5 hours with no water). It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, and we headed straight for Emerald Beach. After 10 minutes of blissful water immersion the lifeguard tooted his little whistle and herded everyone out of the beach like naughty cows. Reason? There was a typhoon coming. Not a cloud in the sky, only the merest breath of wind and we were being kicked out.

That was pretty much the end of our beach experience. We spent the rest of the afternoon at the resort pool, saw a beautiful sunset and dined al fresco at the outdoor BBQ (someone must have been to Australia). The typhoon hit around 4 am the next morning, and continued until 4 am of the morning we were due to fly out.

We learnt today (Thursday) that Emerald Beach is closed on Thursday. Every Thursday. The conversation with our friendly beach-nazi went something like this:

Kim : Why is the beach closed every Thursday?
BN : Hmmm. Not sure. Its just closed every Thursday.
Kim : Every Thursday.
BN : Yes, that's right.
Kim : So we can't swim at the beach.
BN : Yes, you can swim at the beach.
Kim : But you just said it was closed.
BN : Yes. Closed.
Kim : So we can't swim there.
BN : Yes, you can swim there, but the beach is closed on Thursday.
Kim : So we can't swim at the beach.
BN : Yes, you can, but the beach is closed.
Kim : Right.

One thing I have learned about the Japanese is that you don't ask them questions. The circular conversation is, indeed, an art form, much like origami, but its one I have no interest in learning. There are things I enjoy much more than beating my head against a door.

On the third day of our vacation (Friday), we braved the winds to walk up to the peninsula, and on coming back to the hotel were hot and bothered. Ah! Resort swimming pool! They couldn't keep us out of the swimming pool! We made the mistake of asking the concierge for permission and he promptly crossed his hands and said 'Abunai!' (danger!) What the? It's a s.w.i.m.m.i.n.g p.o.o.l. I was on the verge of taking the whole resort out with all its rules, regulations and illogical bans.

On our last day, the typhoon had blown over and we thought we could maybe get an hour swim in the morning before catching our bus back to the airport. We headed to the beach at 8.30 with naive optimism, and we should have known we'd be shafted. We weren't allowed in because they were cleaning the beach of jelly fish which had magically been blown in with the typhoon. We asked what time we'd be able to go in and they said 9:30 which was the exact time we had to leave. I sank down into the beach and wept.

Arriving at Naha Airport 3 hours later, we drowned our sorrows in "habu-shu", the local deadly firewater bottled with the local deadly snake, habu. Didn't taste half bad - not at all like smelly socks as it was supposed to...