My tsunami get-away plan
Having spent a significant chunk of last week toasting my pale skin on a tiny island in the Indian Ocean, I was wondering what it is you think about, or even worry about, when you find yourself in such an idyllic situation.
Do you lie there on your sun-lounger, cocktail close to hand, thinking about whether or not you can take a cutting of that luscious hibiscus home with you? Do you debate the relative merits of the freshly baked coconut muffin versus the mango one at the breakfast buffet? Or are you planning the next day’s spa treatment?
I can tell you what runs through my mind almost every evening when I’m on a tiny island in the midst of the Indian Ocean: My tsunami get-away plan.
I’ve never been caught in a tsunami so I have no excuse to be so obsessed with it. But there’s definitely something to do with lying there, with the ocean waves crashing on the shore just metres away from my (sea-level) four-poster bed, that makes me start wondering what chance we’d have should there be a tsunami in the middle of the night (zero chance, I think, realistically, given I’d likely be blotto on too much holiday wine).
So I fall asleep listening to the waves, waiting for the tell-tale silence that would mean the sea’s receded in preparation of the killer wave. In my head, this abnormal silence would wake me up, I’d grab the family and we’d run to higher ground (not always easy on a tiny island in the Indian Ocean), climb a palm tree (with two small children?), or get onto the roof of our luxury single-story villa (not high enough, I fear).
I can’t sleep until I’ve decided which of these plans is best and figured out how to execute it half asleep and in the dark. Which child, for example, would I grab, and which would DH get?
On last week’s particular island, I was delighted to see we weren’t far from the spa, which was conveniently arranged vertically up the mountainside. Bingo, I thought. I’d wake everyone and then we’d dash 300 metres to the spa and scramble quickly up the mountain.
With that thought safely in mind, I had the best sleep I’ve ever had on an Indian Ocean island. It’s not normal is it? (I didn’t bring the hibiscus home).