I love the ocean, particularly when I am not in it. I don't mind being near it, and in fact one day I'd love to live somewhere that has a view of it, but I've come to the realisation that I actually don't like being in it. And more than not liking being in the ocean, I'm really not a huge fan of being on the beach. Take today for example.
I really wanted to prove a point to people, what that point was I actually don't know. But as someone who resembles a British backpacker, with my pasty white flesh and insipid looking complexion, I felt the need to at least once this holiday feel sand between my toes. Which would've been lovely if it wasn't like sticking my feet into an oven that's been on 180 degrees for 4 hours. The dry skin problem on my feet is now no longer an issue, as most of the skin has pretty much been burnt off. Perfect. Who knew that sand could get so hot by 10am in the morning?
I must admit, I nearly didn't go through with it. There is an iron man event happening over this coming weekend that was being set up when I was down there. There's nothing intimidating at all about seeing fit, tanned and toned guys and girls in their Uncle Tobys' outfits doing promotional activities just a few metres from you on the beach when you currently resemble a beached whale. Hey, the way I figure it, society needs balance - not everyone should look like a golden adonis, and dammit I'm happy to do my bit to keep that balance... clearly.
Here's to all the vampires on the Gold Coast, may you shy away from the sun with pride. Enjoy.
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