Scuba diving is a monster in disguise

Scuba, fins, relax, dollars

Be careful.

It is such a cliché, but once the bug has bitten, you will be in love forever. Bugger the boss, bugger the housework, bugger the poor dog/parrot/cat/marmot staying at home, diving I must go!

From the first day walking into my now favourite PADI dive shop Reef Divers, in Pretoria South Africa, the smell of neoprene and chlorine became a drug of choice. Chlorine was exchanged for the salty smell of the ocean, but by that time it was too late, I was addicted. Learning the theory and practicing the skills were a thrill, but the first dive in the ocean was the best! You ain’t seen nothing until you put a mask on and peek below the waves…

After that I tried to self-medicate as often as I could, to the detriment of the bank balance. Had to love the boss a bit more so I could feed this monster I created. And what a monster it is. Once you have all the newest gear on the market with the bells and whistles, they entice you with new goodies. A better computer, new technology in fins, better working regulator than the one you just bought as top of the range, wetsuits that glide on like your favourite stockings (ugh, who still wear those?) and then the coup de grâce – Underwater cameras! This is a whole new topic for another day, but you get the picture.

Suddenly a dream – lounging in my  bathtub – became a wondrous reality.

And just when you thought, this is the ducks’ nuts (Aussie slang for the best thing ever!)  you realize that your habitat – Earth – is about 71% water! Now you REALLY have to love the boss and the job, so you can start overdosing on your new lifestyle in other parts of the world. Get out the atlas (or Google Earth) and start planning.

Hobbies are for old people and golfers, I love my monster!

Oh, this reminds me, need to sell the dog/cat/parrot/marmot for pocket money…

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