Anda's all right: long beach, and the water shallow for a good ways, white sand. But it suffers from beachside karaoke, as did White Beach near Moalboal, and all the trash and noise of weekend beachgoers. I picked up three plastic bottles out of the ocean on our walk back to our hotel--but enough with the self-righteousness.
In the water we saw a sea snake, snails, white fish, crabs, starfish. At low tide the starfish began moving on their hundreds of teeth-like legs, then buried themselves in the sand, leaving nothing but a star-shaped imprint. The tiny black crabs, too, buried themselves as the water left, making soft popping and clicking sounds in the sand--their breathing?--as we walked over them. When it was still wet, they rolled up balls of sand that they appeared to be eating. We would only see this after they grew complacent enough to come out of their holes again. What a strange sight, to witness a swath of sand dotted in black slowly become white again as you step towards it--as if in a wave. Even 10 meters off the crabs were burrowing down in advance of us. And then to see them emerge again when the danger (us) had not moved at all. We watched them come out one by one, fighting off an irrational sense of creepiness.
The bad karaoke has started up again. The charm of out-of-tune singing, initiated so long ago by _My Best Friend's Wedding_, has worn off. During a brownout in the afternoon the proprietress of our hotel chuckled to herself and said, Yes, a break from the singing! I laughed with her, prompting her to continue: I really can't stand it, but it's business. That it is. And anyway, I'm sure she suffers more than we do.
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