When a person is lucky enough to take a summer holiday in January even for just a few days, she should have nothing to complain about upon her return.

That, however, would not be me being me. I do, indeed, have a beef. It is with all those people who have exclaimed upon seeing me since my return, “You were in Maui? Where’s your tan?”

The comment has become so frequent that I now feel I should immediately apologize for not having a dark enough tan. I actually do have a tan, but I’m not one of those people whose skin turns dark at the first brush of the sun. I get, well, I prefer to refer to it as a golden tan.

Many years ago, I got the same reaction when I returned from Oahu. I was saucier then, though, and shut down the comments with an offer to show off my tan lines.

What is with this fixation on tanning anyway? There is considerable solid information about the damage too much sun can do to a person. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy basking in the rays, but I use sunscreen, especially on my face. Those wrinkles come fast enough without baking in the grooves. I also don’t relish the thought of losing my nose to cancer.

Anyway, I’ve never been a committed sunbather. I have a friend who gently cooks her skin to tanned perfection through a rigid routine of 15-minute stints of exposure.

Watching her on a lounge chair is like watching a chicken on a spit. She is constantly turning from her back to her side to her front to her other side. She keeps her arm over her head so her sides are fully hit by the sun.

It’s fascinating to watch such dedication, but it seems to require a lot of work. I, on the other hand, do have a tan, but it’s in streaks. My stomach resembles a zebra or jail bars. I hate to admit this, but it’s from sitting up in the lounge chair, which means the sun doesn’t penetrate the rolls. I’ll say no more.

I spent a lot of time in the sun. I mean, who goes to Maui and doesn’t do a little sun worshipping? But rather than being pre-occupied with tanning, I read. When I wasn’t reading, I had my eyes glued to binoculars watching the humpback whales cavort in the waters between Maui and Molokai.

I might have missed one of those mighty slaps of the tails, or fins, and when I was really lucky, complete body belly flops — the experts call them breaches — if I was too busy worrying about skin esthetics.

I hope this is an adequate explanation of why I have not returned with the spectacular tan that is apparently required when one vacations in Hawaii, even for only seven days.

Speaking of the sun, I began to wonder in Maui if travellers from other countries are unaware of what can happen without sun protection.

It surely wasn’t Canadians who took their little bald-headed babies to the beach without T-shirts or sun hats. Seriously, I saw more children there without hats or cover-ups than with them. It was surprising when a baby actually was protected from the sun.

I nearly asked a couple of parents whether they knew babies should not be in a hot spot with their little heads uncovered. But then I thought about what I might have said to a stranger who took it upon herself to criticize my parenting methods. I stayed silent.

My mother was much braver than I. She was in a hot springs pool in Nakusp many years ago when she saw a mom heading into the water with tiny baby. Quick as a flash, she said “the temperature is far too hot for your baby.” In that case, the young mom was very grateful.

Sometimes it is unbelievable how little some people know about what should be obvious health information.

I put it down to not reading enough newspapers.

Susan Duncan is city editor of The Daily News. Her column appears Friday.