Today the weather was just too beautiful to stay indoors. We decided to go to Marina Crescent to have a late breakfast at Le Pain Quotidien. It was quiet and relaxed but I did notice that there were many persons who looked like youngish students?  Were these little ones all starting their holiday early as predicted? Or had they “absconded” from school?

We took a stroll down by the waterfront and it was gorgeous. The sky was a bright clear blue, the tide was in and the sea was an intense vibrant blue.

We sat on the bench and I did what I love the most: people watching. 

On the bench on our left were two older abaya-clad Kuwaiti women sitting quietly with their Indonesian maid out to enjoy the day.  In front of us passed an older man in a navy suit. He may have been Lebanese or Syrian.  He was stocky and his gray hair was worn away into a shiny sun-kissed bald spot. He seemed instantly invigorated by the sight of the sea and with his black dress shoes went walking on the sand down to the beach where he stood looking out at the water, one hand in his right pocket, the left hand on his ample waist under the suit jacket.  He walked up and down the beach close to the water.  I don’t know why but I kept thinking of his dress shoes.

Over to the left side of the beach there was a young girl with long light brown hair. She looked foreign. She wore brown pants and a floral pink top over a dark long sleeved “bodysuit”.  She was being twirled and danced by a taller guy in a black suit. From a distance we thought she was a child. The young man twirled her around in a happy dance down by the sea. They laughed in the carefree manner of youth and as she finished her last twirl she grasped his hand and they continued their happy walk down the beach.

Directly in front of us on the beach, there was a western couple with their little daughter who was very busy playing in the sand.  The woman stood in her greenish caftan and proceeded to slip into her bikini. This was going to be interesting.  Her husband sat with his back towards her, still in Bermudas and polo shirt, his face obscured by a sun hat.  The woman slipped into her bikini bottom and then as she pulled it up, very adroitly wrapped a sarong around her, at the same time taking off what remained of the green caftan. How she managed to put on her bikini top I don’t know because at that moment the whole Al-Arabi tae-kwando men’s team walked by coming from Marina Waves. They were jovial and laughing as they passed.  By the time they had, the western woman was standing in her turquoise bikini and making herself comfortable for a sunbathing session or some “bronzage” as the Lebanese would say. 

One of the Tae Kwando team members had a camera with a huge lens on it and was taking photos. As far as I know, he didn’t take photos of the bikini clad westerner but pointed his camera in the opposite direction to photograph his teammate who was standing by a group of young Kuwaiti mothers with toddlers. They looked like they were just baby sitting and not mothers.

The young dancing couple were now sitting on a bench farther away from us but they were oblivious to the world around them.  Soon they got up and when they passed in front of us I pondered her age; she couldn’t have been more than sixteen.  Why was he wearing a black suit and white shirt?  It made him look older than his face said he was. They bought some popcorn and went back down to the beach to eat and play. [I was disappointed with you, young man; as you left, you placed your empty popcorn carton on the concrete slab although the rubbish bin was less than a meter away ; and I don’t care if it was half full; there’s no excuse to be a litter bug]

A group of four Indian teens came rushing by in their school clothes and backpacks: two girls and two boys. They walked down to the beach and started to play.

Everyone is drawn to the sea.

A tall middle aged westerner came past and walked down to the beach and positioned himself about 5 meters away from the other western couple.  He took off his shirt to reveal a tanned torso, and lay down on the sand to sunbathe. The husband of the turquoise bikini clad woman soon got up and removed his shorts and shirt. I guess by now he was warmed up enough to want to remove his clothes and get a suntan.  I wondered if these people lived nearby.

A young Kuwaiti couple was walking hand in hand down the pavement and suddenly he took a handful of her hair and started to twist it, pulling her head down slightly in the process. Was it abuse? I looked more closely. Hmm…No, he was exerting his power over her and she loved it. They resumed holding hands.

We went walking to Marina Waves where there is the Kuwait Climbing Centre.  It is a strange building. In the middle is the climbing wall. Next to it are two small shops as I remember: one for Sea & Desert and the other Extreme Sports equipment.

Some children were climbing the wall. In the corner, in Blenz Coffee, small groups of elegant middle aged Kuwaiti women sat having heavy duty gossip sessions and not wasting an opportunity to look us over as we passed, their gaze obscured by large dark designer sunglasses. 

We walked around the building and it struck me as full of interesting nooks and crannies to grab a quick smooch with your girlfriend. As we turned the corner, four truant teens, looked up guiltily. The girls were perched on the short wall and the guys stood by entertaining them. They busied themselves with their iPods as we passed. 

An American walked arm in arm with his blonde Filipina companion.  They looked like us, checking out the place. The view from the upper balcony is splendid and you can see the whole of Kuwait City bay area.  Looking back towards the beach, a  large striped shade umbrella flies away and woman in a scarf and pale manteau runs after it.

As we left Marina Waves, the delivery truck for Maki Japanese restaurant was in the driveway. A black Mercedes pulled up next to it and an elegant Kuwaiti woman wearing a yellow jacket belted at the waist disembarked nimbly. She quickly donned her sunglasses and sped down the ramp, no doubt to join the other ladies at Blenz Coffee.  It was only after we were half way back to the car, and by now sweltering in the growing heat, that I remembered the elegant lady was my dentist.