Planes, trains, automobiles... and hotels. Because travel always involves some form of lodging.
Until now, lodging in Guam was always at the Agat Compound. This time, to keep MamaT and PapaV safe from the virus named after the Mexican beer, I opted for Guam Reef Hotel. Despite the photo gallery and description on their website, I reserved my expectations of the facility to be quaint – putting it nicely. And it was. And old. And teemed with soldiers in BDU and PT (T for "training", not therapy) uniforms.
Unbeknownst to me, it was Military Exercise week during my visit. Thank goodness the cheery fellow at the car rental office was able to snag a last-minute returned car for me! But since the island was practically devoid of tourists, getting my room on a quiet floor with a fantastic view came easily.
Look closely toward the bottom of the photo. The black ant-like figures in formation are soldiers finishing up with PT just as dawn broke.
By the time I got down to the sand myself, I was alone for the most part. The only people I came across were fishermen, one with a throw net, the other with a rod.
Telltale signs of the previous night's festivities were strewn about randomly.
Reef logoed towel...
Black underwear, black PT uniform: coincidence?
But the beach front of the newer, fresher, more modern designed hotel just to the south of the Reef, was tidy and swept up.
On this same short stretch of beach, the uniform was bright colored bathing suits and matching leggings & tops. These soldiers – if that's what they were – bared their six-packed abs as they either lounged to catch some Vitamin D, or contorted themselves in asanas in their yoga trances.
No, I did not take their photos. That would be just creepy! Instead, here is me, communing with them.
Later in the week, I discovered that this stretch of beach belonged to Dusit Thani. This resort was a whole other world beyond my quaint Reef lodging. In fact, it was so classy I used up my phone battery trying to connect to GPS to navigate my way through its maze! Needless to say, the only proof I have that I was there are these photos from the dinners I ate there. The battery died as I was about to take a selfie on some wicker ottomans that looked like cloud pillows arranged in a rectangle, located at the base of the escalators leading to the ground floor. (I lay out the general location so that you can see it for yourself if you happen to be in Guam.)
From my perch in the restaurants where I ate, I could take in the sprawling view of the intricate pool design below. It was a series of swimming ponds connected by bridges and causeways under the canopy of swaying palm trees, and divided by lush trimmed bushes providing privacy for each swimming hole.
And, lo! A hot tub! Occupied by PT uniform clad soldiers. But these soldiers were sipping beverages out of stemmed glassware, not cans of mango flavored Truly.
On my last night, I toasted my long overdue visit with a glass of cab sauv. On my meandering path through Dusit Thani's grounds, I passed lone souls meditating on their purposes in the cosmos of the orange horizon. As I neared Reef grounds, the hootin'-hollerin' of Truly festive souls crescendoed, and I wove my way through a hacky sack kicking circle, a mini soccer competition, and a smattering of paired individuals swaying their bodies to the rhythm of reggae beats.
From my balcony, I looked down at the rectangular pool below. It was occupied by two teams battling an intense game of water football, and spectators at the infinity end. On deck, were more spectators cheering on their respective teams.
Dusit Thani is prim and proper and quiet; the Reef is obnoxious and energetic and loud.
I fell asleep to the sound of
Blue, forty-two!
Open! Open!
Hut, hut, hike!
Mother [bleeper]!
Roughin' the passer!
Traveling!
Wait! What? Traveling is a basketball penalty, not football. I must have been dreaming of my long journey to travel the next day.
What a wonderful world!
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