There’s no denying it. The beach is a fantastic place, especially in the summertime. You can swim, sunbathe, make sandcastles, surf, collect shells, and perve. It’s a little bit perfect.
Today, the water is a tumbling seaweed littered eddy. It looks like Christmas gift wrap, but feels like an octopus is getting way too friendly with me. I put my arms in, and they come out adorned in a new snot-bracelet. Charming. But I won’t hold that against it, I still love the sea.
A family comes and parks up nearby, with two dogs in tow. The puppy bounds over to me with a mouthful of dead jellyfish.
“Ruby! Ruby! Ruby, come here!” Screams the woman as she marches over.
Ruby takes cover by nestling under my knees and chomps on the jelly treat. It dribbles out of her jaw and flops onto my sarong. Mmm, delicious. The yelling lady apologises, picks Ruby up, and carries her like a baby. I like Ruby. She frolics, does what she likes, doesn’t listen, and is cute.
Ruby craps on the beach. I know, because even though she’s a good 15 metres away, there is an offshore wind blowing in my direction. The ‘Ruby yeller’ comes over to the steaming brown pile, and makes a castle of sand on top of it. Note to self, do not stand or jump on sandcastles. Even if they are crappy looking ones.
The 2 year old has ripped off all her clothes, and is having fun putting sand on top of the other dog. It is clearly lapping up any form of attention. Wish I could do that.
Another family has come down to make the most of the beautiful afternoon. It’s one of those average families. Mum, dad, daughter, and son. Everything appears a little too perfect until the 5 year old starts having a tanty. “Fine then, don’t enjoy yourself at the beach with us,” growls Mum.
Yesterday, a cree-larious thing happened (creepy + hilarious). My friend and I had come down to the beach for a swim and sunbathing session. We had just set up camp, when this guy comes walking towards us. Was he traipsing up to the beach access? Nope.
“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” He asked in a European accent. Hmmm, dodgy pick-up line. We were in a good mood, so my mate did a quick slap-up job at arm’s length.
“Can I sit next to you?” He asked, still in Euro accent. Hmmm, there’s a whole lot of empty beach you can choose from. Yet again, we were being nice, so we said ‘OK’.
He stripped down to his undies….. Weird. We chit-chatted and found out that he had been touring around for the past couple of months and was about to head home to Austria.
My friend and I went for a swim, but kept an eye on our belongings. Who knows what Austrian Tourist Guy is capable of? We cooled down in the water and ‘wtf’d’. The temperature was superb. We came back to our spot and found that Tourist Guy had nodded off.
So we lounged in the sun like lizards, chewing the fat about life. Then he put his hand down his pants. I stifled a loud, guttural laugh, and told my mate. She looked over and was trying not to laugh out loud. It was like being back in high school and trying not to giggle during boring algebra class.
“Let’s go for another swim,” I blurted out. We ran down to the beach and exploded into tear-inducing and belly-shaking guffaws, as soon as we hit the water. ‘Are you serious?’ kept cropping up.
Our plan was to go back and make lots of noise, so he would wake up and realise the error of his ways. My mate picked up her towel and started shaking it furiously.
“My towel’s very sandy!” She yelled. He didn’t flinch. So we took the awesome photo opportunity, this moment clearly needed evidence to back up the story. But this crazy story doesn’t end here…
After the laughter had calmed down we were wondering what to do about the situation, when movement started in his pants.
“Holy f***! Look now.”
We got up and quietly escaped when his hand also started moving. He was actually multi-tasking, snoring, chewing gum, and well… you know.
So the beach appears to bring out the best in people, dogs, and random Austrian tourists.