Project plans

I have added a new feature to my blog, a gallery of my photographs. This can be viewed from the top bar of the page. It took an incredible amount of work to create this page, due to one or both of the facts that I am quite computer-illiterate and that the templates on this site are not very adaptable. I wanted to have a page where my photos could be viewed side-by-side rather than in a standard blog format, and I have had to create a new blog with a different layout rather than a new page in order to do this. All this means is that when the link to 'Gallery' is clicked on, it will open a new web page as I couldn't find a way to link it back to this blog. So it is best to open it in a new window.

I had decided today to try to get my head around a few aspects of my project that I have so far been neglecting. As a part of Jessica's project plan that I have agreed to, I will be writing twenty book reviews and participating in at least twenty hours of charity work. I am falling behind on the book reviews, as I have been here six weeks already and haven't written any, when I need to be averaging two a month. I will have to catch up quickly, but there's no reason to despair. It's great that reading is considered to be work for me. Jessica has a lovely egg-shaped hanging seat on the small terrace at the top of the house. It's very nice to curl up inside it and read on a sunny afternoon. I have also emailed some local charitable organisations in the hope that I will have the chance to do some volunteering. As well as being a rewarding thing to do, I hope that through charity work I can get a better understanding of the social problems in Vietnam. I have to admit that I've only seen the affluent side of Saigon so far, which is not going to give me any insight into what life is like for the average Vietnamese person, something that is so crucial to my project.

Jessica is very busy with work at the moment, and for the next few weeks I will have to keep myself busy, finding my own things to do and pushing ahead with my project work. At the end of the month we have a trip planned, which I am excited about. We will be heading north to the capital, Hanoi, and then joining a tour group with which we will see Sapa, a mountainous hill town, and continue to climb Phan Xi Pang, the highest mountain in Indochina. This will involve two nights camping on the mountain. After the hard work, we will reward ourselves with the two-day hotel and spa package in Ninh Binh that, fantastically, Jessica was given for free at a corporate event in September. Jessica, who is technically retired but working most days at the moment, is keen to have a long holiday, and I will try to get as much work done as I can until then, to get ahead of things before December, when my family and Jessica's friends will be occupying all our time.

Fine Arts of Vietnam

I visited the Fine Arts Museum of Ho Chi Minh City yesterday, a collection that has been open to the public since 1991 and is housed in a beautiful pale-yellow French mansion, featuring tiled floors, stained glass windows and blue wrought-iron banisters and window bars. I started from the top of the building, where there is a collection of ceramics and sculpture. In the centre of the this floor are examples of Hindu, Buddhist and Cham temple statues in stone, and in adjoining rooms there are collections of ceramics, bronze castings and wood carvings.

Bien Hoa pottery

There are three principle schools of ceramic style that originate in South Vietnam. Cay Mai ceramics from the old city of Saigon are plain in style, in earthy brown and black shades. The exhibits in the museum were mostly household objects dating across a millennium, from the 1^st-3^rd, 11^th-12^th and 16^th centuries. There were also some high-grade ceramics on display from the late nineteenth to early twentieth centuries. As urbanisation took hold of Saigon in the early twentieth century, ceramics production areas were pushed to the outskirts. As a consequence of this, the town of Lai Thieu in Binh Duong province became another significant centre of ceramics. Lai Thieu ceramics incorporate art into household items. Much of this was very garish, particularly the ugly fish-headed dragon vases. The most beautiful were the ceramics from Bien Hoa, where there is an important school of arts. The vases here combined Vietnamese and Chinese styles, in blue and turquoise colours, with attractive patterns or textures.

Unexpected sight from a window

A room contained bronze pieces from the 18^th-20^th centuries. A sign explained that religion and worship encouraged the development of many handicrafts, including bronze, which is used to create statues for worship and incense bowls and burners. Some of the incense burners were very bizarre- decorated with spiky dragon embellishments. Wood carvings from the nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries also featured in the museum, including folk sculptures for worship in homes or temples, decorative pieces and precious items such as jewellery boxes. Some were painted gold, others coated with black lacquer and embellished with mother-of-pearl. In this room were very distinctive-looking Khmer statues of Buddha, all gold, elaborately decorated with pointed-up corners at ears, shoulders and knees, and featuring the trademark ‘Khmer smile’.

The second and first floors contain collections of modern art, divided into pre- and post-1975, a year of ultimate significance, of course, as it marks the end of the war and the beginning of communist rule. I read that this art museum contains the country’s best collection, but it is hardly a world-class gallery. Highlights were the small room of Chinese ink paintings and some of the pre-1975 oil portraits and sceneries, which had unambiguous names such as ‘Sad Scene’ and ‘Naked Lady’. In other rooms were dramatic but mostly unaffecting scenes of war and even cartoonish propaganda posters portraying American soldiers as big oafs. Certainly, the photographs in the War Remnants Museum were more emotive and persuasive than the paintings on display here. I also saw ink and watercolour portraits, some amateur and others very good, some abstract art, which doesn’t interest me much, and plenty of lacquer engravings. There was also a collection of interesting sculptures, some of which reminded me of Otto Dix’s disturbing scenes from the First World War, distorted bodies with expressions of horror and pain.

Later in the day I met Jessica in the city as we had arranged to go out for tea. But firstly, she wanted to do some shopping. Next month she is taking me to a Scottish ball and told me that I will need an appropriate dress for dancing (I have to take classes in Scottish dancing in preparation for this ball, the first of which shall be tonight…). I was lucky to quickly find a lovely long black and grey dress, which swoops low at the sides and has a Middle Eastern-style look. Jessica bargained the shopkeeper down to her knees and bought it for a brutally cheap $35.

Today had been a gorgeously sunny day so far; happily the rainy season is slowly and reluctantly coming to an end. In the morning I have been swimming and in a few hours will be meeting Jessica in the city for another meal out, and to learn some Scottish dancing. I don’t know what to expect but I hope it will be fun!

Scandal and Reiki

This morning I went to the cinema by myself. This is probably quite a strange thing to do at 10am on a Sunday morning, but if I looked like a wierdo I'm not too concerned. There were only two other people there to judge me. I went to see Scandal, a Vietnamese film that I had seen advertised on the little screens in taxis around the city, and was interested in. The film, directed by Vincent Vu, followed the escalating conflict between two beautiful model-actresses, both in the centre of the Saigon celebrity world. They compete firstly for a man, and secondly for the lead role in an upcoming blockbuster, using the media as a way of undermining each other in a series of revenges. The plot was dark, incorporating black magic, frightening hallucinations and violence. As the plot develops, it is revealed that the rivalry between the two has been manipulated by the producer of the upcoming film, in order to promote the film through a public scandal. But as the plan spirals out of the control of the plotters, it is too late to save the lives of the vengeful women. The film was set in Ho Chi Minh City, and the final, bloody episode was actually filmed a little bridge in our neighbourhood, something I found quite exciting. I cycled over this bridge on my way home and found myself looking expectantly down into the water below…

Jessica is healed

In the afternoon Jessica was visited by a mentee, a young Japanese man called Yoshi. He had lunch with us and updated Jessica on how things are going in his life; he is currently studying yoga and zen at a school in India. His particular interest is reiki, a Japanese healing practice, and is looking to develop his own client base while he develops his skills. He practiced on Jessica and I, although reiki is really intended for those who are unwell, as a way of restoring the damaged ‘energy flow’ in their bodies. Yoshi claimed that he can feel a disrupted energy flow by holding his hands above a sick person; sometimes, a form of electricity is felt, he said. In turns, Jessica and I lay on the sofa as Yoshi moved his hands in circular motions over our bodies, and held his palms flat against our backs for long periods. Apparently, it is possible to ‘sense’ his hands moving over and above your body with your eyes closed, through a heat that is omitted. I fell asleep. Yoshi said that this shows I am healthy. The unhealthiest of the bunch is Happy the dog, who is becoming deaf and has problems with her liver. Yoshi was ready to perform reiki on Happy in an attempt to cure her, but she clearly thought this was ridiculous and struggled out of Jessica’s arms to run away downstairs.

Happy is not convinced

Tea was really nice tonight. We ate hotpot, (Asian, not Lancashire), a broth cooked on a portable stove that was placed in the middle of the table, to which we added crab, squid, green leafy vegetables, corn on the cob and onions, and ate with noodles.

Not long in Long Hai

As I suspected, it was a quiet day today. Jessica and I didn't leave the hotel in Long Hai during the day, until, of course, it was time to go back home to Saigon. We ate breakfast, watching a Japanese company party that had just arrived for the weekend. We decided that the hotel was improved by the arrival of some other guests, but even so that the black interior was a grave mistake, adding to the sense of cold isolation. We went for a quick dip in the pool before checking out. It was a windy morning and the slate-grey sea was rolling far up the beach, ruling out any chance of a walk. After checking out of our room we took advantage of the half-price offer open to hotel guests at the adjoining spa. I chose a hot-stone massage, which was quite nice. The spa area was outdoors and it was very nice being able to watch the sea view while having your back, arms and legs rubbed with warmed oily rocks. Jessica had picked the short straw, unfortunately. Because of her injuries obtained on the poolside steps in Vung Tau yesterday, she didn't think she would be comfortable with a body, face or foot massage. She chose a sixty-minute hair care treatment, but this was abruptly cut to a two-minute hair care treatment when it was discovered that there was no hot water. We had lunch before a long taxi journey back home. As Jessica is working tomorrow, we stayed in and watched a film together tonight.

It was a shame we didn't have the time or opportunity to see the town of Long Hai. Our stay at the Tropicana hotel was a bit of a surreal experience as there were barely any other guests, the hotel was isolated in its location, and its dark interior made it seem unfriendly. I'm sure on a bright, busy summer day it could have been cool, relaxing and stylish. But for us, at this time, it wasn't right. Our time in Vung Tau, on the other hand, was very enjoyable. The Valley Mountain hotel was pretty and charming with good staff, and we had a lot of fun in our day-and-a-half spent in the town. Now it's back to life in the big city. Jessica has to return to work and I have to re-focus on my project and think about how next week will be spent.

Jessica at the spa

A day of Jesuses

It was an early start in Vung Tau this morning to walk up a nearby hill before breakfast. This hill could be seen from our hotel balcony. Midway up is a colossal shining white statue of the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus us in one hand. The infant stands tall with his arms outstretched, already aware of his own influence.  At the top of the hill and just visible through the forest is a high crucifix. This was where we were heading.

Jessica and I walked along the main road to the church, where busloads of people were being delivered for a ceremony, perhaps travelling from the countryside, or a day-trip from a factory, Jessica suggested. Nobody else had come to do this walk, however. We started up the hillside path. The steps were high and steep, cut out of the rock face. As we ascended the story of Jesus’ crucifixion was told through sculpture. We wound through the forest crossing paths with monkeys as Jesus lugged his cross, was stripped, nailed, and finally laid to rest in a tomb. I suppose the walk is supposed to give you an appreciation of Jesus’ suffering; it was very hard work! After the conclusion of Jesus’ death, the rest of the route was without artistic accompaniment, besides the surprising dinosaur towards the top. Finally we reached the crucifix that marked the top of the hill, hallelujah! We hurried down to enjoy the reward of our breakfast.

It seemed there was a pattern emerging for the day, whereby I was forced to ‘earn’ every meal through labour. The hill on the other side to the Jesus hill has a statue of Buddha at the top; this was to be our next hike before lunchtime. We took a taxi to save doing yesterday’s long walk into town all over again. On the way we stopped to see a beautiful house that was once the residence of the French Governor of Cochinchina (a colonial term for South Vietnam.) The house inside had high ceilings and beautiful views out to sea, although the interior was quite plain. Downstairs was a collection of pottery that had been rescued from the shipwreck of a boat coming from Europe.

Jesus welcomes us to the top of the hill

We headed to the cable car station, to take a trip up to see the Buddha statue on the hill-top. It turned out to be an expensive ride though; it seemed that at the top of the cable car was a large amusement park, of which Buddha was the star attraction. We didn’t think this was for us, but Jessica had another plan. On the next hill was another Jesus, and so we would climb up to there instead, making it a monotheistic day of Jesuses, and no Buddhas. By now it was really hot, so we climbed very slowly. At the top Jessica was disappointed that we couldn’t go inside Jesus. She has done this before- climbing up a staircase inside the hollow body and appearing through an opening in the shoulder. A sign around the back of the monument read “Please do not climb into hands or other hollow areas”.  Jesus’ body was not open for visitors at this time but I wasn’t disappointed; I thought the Lord would prefer it if we left his innards alone.

We returned to David’s, the Italian restaurant we visited at teatime yesterday, to have a plate of pasta for lunch. After checking out of the hotel we took a taxi journey to Long Hai, where we are spending tonight and tomorrow. Long Hai is a quieter beach retreat a half hour’s drive from Vung Tau. Our hotel is a beach-front resort with bungalow rooms. There are almost no other people staying in this huge complex, and it is quite isolated in its location, making us feel a little stranded. We spent a few hours by the pool after we arrived. I drifted off to sleep on a sun lounger, feeling a bit chilly beneath the grey sky. 

A shrine on the rocks

When I woke up we went for a walk along the beach. We walked to a pile of earthy orange boulders, around which a river channel opened into the sea. On the other side of the beach from the rocks we could see a group of young people with a camera and tripod filming a performance. In the centre a man in a white shirt dropped to his knees in agony of his broken heart. The camera swirled around him and the four or five other friends chased the cameraman around the central figure in a swooping circle so as to avoid being in the shot. We walked a little further and watched speedy, spider-legged crabs whip across the beach. The darkness of the sky and sense of desolation was very atmospheric.

Theatre troop can be seen to the right of the rocks

At teatime we sat in the empty hotel restaurant together. We were at a loose end at what to do after feeding ourselves, and after checking every TV channel back in the room, Jessica has gone to bed at 8.30 as she could not find anything else to do. We had planned to spend tomorrow doing nothing, but I think that there really is so little to do here that we will have to do something. Hopefully we will find a cleaner beach where we can sunbathe and swim, or see what there is to find in the town.

Vung Tau: fun, laughs and music

Jessica and I arrived in Vung Tau yesterday for the start of a three-day holiday, a break from work for Jessica, and just an extra treat for me. We took a boat from Saigon at 10.30 and arrived at the seaside town of Vung Tau an hour and a half later, where the sun was beaming down. We hopped in a taxi which drove us erratically along the main road following the seafront towards our hotel. The driver treated us to a mixtape of his, which opened with a loud and badly-recorded copy of Mambo Italiano. Me and Jessica pulled some shapes in the back of the taxi as we whizzed along, feeling thoroughly in the holiday spirit. This was only greatened by the ‘welcome ice-cream’ we received after checking into our pretty little boutique-style hotel. As the journey to get from home to this point from had been so quick and easy, I’m sure I’ve never felt so relaxed and comfortable at the beginning of a holiday, as though we had travelled by private jet or helicopter. At home in Leeds there is no-where I can think of that could be described as a holiday destination within an hour and a half of home. Unless you count walking or camping holidays (which I don’t). Therefore, I didn’t feel the sense of entitlement to a holiday that comes with a long and wearisome journey to your destination, and so all day each little treat came as an unexpected surprise. And it certainly was a day filled with treats and fun.

After the lengthy process of Jessica checking every room in the hotel to find the best one was complete, we headed out for lunch at a seafood restaurant that Jessica had been to before. The hotel had some bikes we could borrow to cycle there. Unfortunately they were all tandem bikes. Worse still, the brakes didn’t work on the one we chose. I’m sure anybody can imagine the scene of the two of us clambering onto a tandem bicycle for the first time, working out how to balance and co-ordinate our pedalling, then setting off down the steep driveway before discovering we couldn’t stop. Jessica was mortified with embarrassment as we cycled along the road to the restaurant, but I enjoyed the novelty and teased her by gaily singing “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do…”.  We ate at Cay Bang, literally ‘big tree’, so named because the building was constructed around a beautiful old tree trunk that is still alive today. We enjoyed a glistening sea view as we ate our crab and squid. We were in the ‘nice part’ of Vung Tau, I was told, and just around the headland are the cheap bars, loud music and ex-pats. Even so, mass tourism is encroaching on Jessica’s preferred part of the city, with one or two large new hotels already in construction.

In the afternoon we played a few games of snooker in the hotel bar, which was good fun because we were both so rubbish. At the start of the second game, Jessica and I delivered three identical shots in a row while trying to split the pack of balls, and each time ended up potting the white ball. For three consecutive attempts the white ball ended up in the one same hole, with the other balls on the table barely nudged. We laughed so much we could barely hold ourselves up. We also chatted with the hotel manager, who was working behind the bar. He was a cool-looking Vietnamese man with a bald head, who wore a Planet Hollywood vest tucked into his black jeans, and put on a good playlist for us.

After this we went swimming in the beautiful hotel pool. At one end were three fountains of water spilling from stone urns. I sat on the edge beneath one of these fountains and posed for a picture, while Jessica walked around the edge of the pool to take a photo from the other side. I watched her walk, and then looked away. When I looked back she had vanished. Maybe those steps at the other side of the pool go further down than I thought, I wondered. Then I saw the manager run towards the pool. Oh dear. Jessica suddenly appeared, standing up from the floor and looking a little lost. She wasn’t watching where she was going, distracted by looking at the camera on my phone, and tumbled down the slippery marble steps, hitting her ankle, knee, bum, elbow and head on one side. She now has some impressive trophy bruises. She cheered up when we spotted a table football set while walking back to the room. We stopped for two games, and we both became very competitive, spinning the players around furiously and whooping and shouting. Jessica said that she was enjoying the game so much that she forgot about the pain!

We went out for the evening, walking along the long main road towards the seafront area of bars and restaurants. We firstly stopped off at Binh An, an expensive resort that Jessica would have liked to have stayed at. We walked through the pretty gardens to the café-bar, where we sat by the window watching darkness envelop the oil rigs and the ships moving silently across the sea. This building was a traditional Chinese home, with a heavy tiled roof, terracotta plastered walls and a tiled floor and woodwork lattices and details on the dark pillars including birds, flowers and Chinese symbols. Jessica told me that this house was once owned by a rich Chinese family in Vietnam and had been moved piece-by-piece from a site in the Mekong Delta, with no nails in the entire construction.  From outside the window we looked down at the pool below, which was a natural pool built out of the rocky sea bed. Here, two identical women wearing colourful swimming costumes, goggles and swimming caps were stretching their bodies, holding onto floats. They also had something attached to their backs, which looked like backpacks but were probably floatation aids. It brought back memories of Victoria Wood’s sketch about swimming the English Channel. I hoped these two strange women were not planning to swim the South China Sea to Indonesia in the dark.

We were the only customers in the cafe, and had come for a late afternoon sweet treat. Jessica ordered a crepe with maple syrup, and I had ordered an apple crepe served with vanilla ice-cream. After a fairly long wait, the crepes arrived, but they did not appear to be the ones we had ordered. Jessica tried to confirm with the waiter what these were, but he barely understood what she was saying to him. Jessica’s crepe was not maple syrup, and mine was certainly not apple, and there was no vanilla ice-cream. Nonetheless, I was so hungry that I couldn’t resist the tasty crepe that had been put in front of me, so I ate it without complaint. Jessica wasn’t happy, though, and took her plate over to the bar for lengthy negotiations with the staff. She returned with a dish of ice-cream for me, which turned out to be coconut-flavoured. Eventually the waiter returned to the table with another plate and announced, “Apple crepe”. He placed it infront of us and my eyes bulged. It was a folded crepe heaving with apple, and a shiny ball of vanilla ice cream on the side. I was still hungry and it took all my strength to refuse this heavenly offering. Two crepes and two ice creams before dinner would be really excessive, and I cursed myself for not waiting longer and demanding the thing I had ordered, like Jessica, who eventually got her maple syrup crepe and was very happy with it. I felt remorseful for a long time afterwards.

Jessica had wanted to see some live music in the evening and asked me to do a search on my phone to find out what was offered in Vung Tau. The first result was the Black Pearl, a pirate-themed bar with a local live band and salsa and flamenco nights. I noted the address, and we began a very long walk along the bay heading in this direction. After a while we passed a salon called Pink’s, which was naturally pink all over, although confusingly, it was described as a men’s salon. Jessica had been looking to have her hair washed, so we went inside. While she was shampooed, I decided to have a manicure and pedicure, a real treat, particularly as it is dirt cheap compared to prices at home.

We walked further along, passing a school where a hundred children were practising martial arts. We stood and watched the cute younger kids doing backwards rolls on a mat. Above the entrance of the school was a painting of Ho Chi Minh hugging a child. I asked Jessica if all schools in Vietnam feature a painting of Ho Chi Minh hugging a child above the entrance, because that is the impression I have got so far. She said yes. Later we found an Italian restaurant called David’s with a wood-fire oven, where we shared a vegetarian pizza. The outside seating was very relaxing, with perfect ambient lighting and comfy seats. After tea we continued along the road, counting down the house numbers towards where the Black Pearl was supposed to be. The road became quiet, with few buildings and only lots of teenagers sat on the sea wall next to their parked motorbikes. It began to look unlikely that we’d find anything. But as soon as we turned the corner the street was lit up again with another stretch of bars, and we finally found the Black Pearl. Inside it was massively over-staffed with waiters in relation to the amount of people in there, as it was a weekday evening. The male staff wore pirate costumes and the female staff wore very little. At least five waiters flocked around every new table to be seated, clumsily crowding us without being of any use. Soon they left us alone to watch the live band and drink some cocktails. The band played well-known pop, RnB and rock songs in English. They weren’t bad, although most of the song choices and recommendations were unexciting.

In all it was a very fun day with a lot of laughter, sometimes at the expense of Jessica, which is always the best kind of humour. 

A cure that's worse than the illness

"What have you done to me?!"

I don’t have much to write about today; I didn’t do much as I have been feeling unwell. I agreed to try a traditional Chinese cure that is popular in Vietnam, intended to ‘release trapped heat’ from your body and cure any illness. This involved Hanh repeatedly scratching the skin on my back with a special tool that I didn’t have a chance to see closely, which was dipped in oils that made my skin tingle warmly. At each new point on my back, it would at first feel pleasant, like a massage, but after a few strokes would become uncomfortable, and then painful. Hanh laughed as I hunched my shoulders and grimaced; she told Jessica that she couldn’t do it properly because I was so afraid of the pain. When she had finished, I was horrified by the sight of my back, which is now covered in dark red blotches. It looks like I have leprosy. I knew to expect this, though, because I’ve seen plenty of people on the streets with similar rash-type patches on their necks and shoulders- a very public way to show you’ve been ill, almost like a sign of weakness, it seemed to me. This method didn’t work for me unfortunately, and I retired to my bed to nurse my stomach ache, and now my hurting back, feeling quite sorry for myself.

I need to recover quickly as Jessica has booked a trip for us both to Vung Tau and Long Hai on the coast, leaving tomorrow and returning on Saturday night. Vung Tau is around 130km south of Saigon. The name translates as ‘anchorage’, named as such because the site were Vung Tau now stands was once a swampy spot for European trading ships to ground in the 14th and 15th centuries. Not the most imaginative or exciting naming for a city, I realise. It was developed on the back of a crude-oil extraction industry, but these days its industrial role has diminished and it is a commercialised beach resort, particularly popular with Australian ex-patriots and their younger local girlfriends, or so I heard. Encouragingly, it was described by Lonely Planet as “mass-tourism soullessness”. Could be fun! Next we will be heading to Long Hai for some relaxation. Long Hai is a fishing village that has become a seaside retreat for Vietnamese people, with white sandy beaches and a micro-climate that brings less rain than in other nearby areas. For these reasons, the last emperor of Vietnam, Bao Dai, had a holiday residence built here.

Before she left for an appointment this evening, Jessica said to me “Take Happy out for a walk, and recover from your illness so we can go on the trip tomorrow”. I’ll try my best, I thought. I did as I was told and took little Happy out for a walk in the neighbourhood. It was very hot when I stepped out of the house, even at four o’clock in the afternoon. We went slowly as Happy stopped to smell everything; I don’t think she normally walks where I was taking her and so everything was new and exciting to her. She was panting continuously because of the heat. I was disappointed in her; she is Vietnamese and couldn’t cope with the heat as well as me, an English Rose. We relaxed in the shade beside a pond in one of the many small parks in this area, which are usually flocked with teenage couples cuddling, friends playing cards or old men sleeping on benches. I took a photograph of a snail on a rock in the water, and I liked the way the reflections in the water made the image seem a bit strange and surreal:

I'm looking forward to the trip and I hope I will be mostly recovered by tomorrow morning. I’m feeling better now, but I’m doubtful about how far the back scratching is responsible for this. Jessica told me that the most important thing is how well my back is recovering, rather than how well my stomach is recovering. This didn’t really make sense to me. She also insisted that I post a follow-up photo to show how how well my back has recovered over the course of the day (I'm not convinced), and to prove to the world that she is trying to help me with my health, not torture me (I don't agree). I hope I don’t scare anybody on the beach this weekend!

Hopefully not scarred for life