the beach
Today we went to the lovely beach 10 minutes from our loft. Since arriving in Spain 3 weeks ago, my opinion of the beach has changed. I used to believe that I didn't like going to the beach because I hate the sun, I don't like wearing a bathing suit, and I can't swim. As it turns out, only one of those assumptions is true.
Item 1: The fact is that the Mediterranean sun, in small doses, is amazing. I enjoy it quite a bit, especially when I am armed with my sunglasses and spf 30. I have had the good sense to not get sunburned at all yet and I’ve spent several hours a day in the bright white sun.
Item 2: When most of the people on the beach are wearing less than my 2-piece (with tasteful bikini top and shorts for bottoms), feeling self-conscious about my body seems silly. We’ve seen men with beer bellies that some Wisconsinites would be proud of rocking speedos and women of all sizes going topless and/or sporting thongs. I feel a little bit overdressed, actually.
Item 3: I was correct in my assessment of my swimming abilities. After a leisurely snack of fresh bread, spicy goat cheese and olives, and of course waiting an hour, Dave and I decided to play in the waves. From the shore they looked so beautiful, breaking on the beach. There were a few little kids playing in them, so I didn’t think it could be dangerous. The initial shock of the cold went away quickly, as we waded out further into the ocean. Even so close to the shoreline, the waves were fairly powerful and kept knocking me down. This evoked a wave of laughter from me, keeping me from getting up and forcing me to receive a continual salt water face wash. This cycle continued until Dave dragged me up and out to where the water was above my knees. Eventually, I stopped being able to touch the bottom, which was problematic since I couldn’t swim back in. It was fun jumping in the waves and trying not to get a mouthful of water, though. Again, more laughing, face full of water followed by laughing…When we decided it was time to come in, the ocean was not pleased. It kept sucking me back in, knocking me down and washing me back out. I got quite the exfoliation on my rump. The very last wave caught me while I was down, enveloped me, rolled me completely over and spit me back on the shore, thinking that I almost died. I felt like I was underwater for an hour. As soon as the homicidal wave went back for reinforcements, I ran back up to my towel and collapsed in a coughing fit of salt water. It was awful. I’m still draining salt water from my nose.
I will go down to the beach again, maybe tomorrow, but I’ll bring a life vest as a cover-up.
Item 1: The fact is that the Mediterranean sun, in small doses, is amazing. I enjoy it quite a bit, especially when I am armed with my sunglasses and spf 30. I have had the good sense to not get sunburned at all yet and I’ve spent several hours a day in the bright white sun.
Item 2: When most of the people on the beach are wearing less than my 2-piece (with tasteful bikini top and shorts for bottoms), feeling self-conscious about my body seems silly. We’ve seen men with beer bellies that some Wisconsinites would be proud of rocking speedos and women of all sizes going topless and/or sporting thongs. I feel a little bit overdressed, actually.
Item 3: I was correct in my assessment of my swimming abilities. After a leisurely snack of fresh bread, spicy goat cheese and olives, and of course waiting an hour, Dave and I decided to play in the waves. From the shore they looked so beautiful, breaking on the beach. There were a few little kids playing in them, so I didn’t think it could be dangerous. The initial shock of the cold went away quickly, as we waded out further into the ocean. Even so close to the shoreline, the waves were fairly powerful and kept knocking me down. This evoked a wave of laughter from me, keeping me from getting up and forcing me to receive a continual salt water face wash. This cycle continued until Dave dragged me up and out to where the water was above my knees. Eventually, I stopped being able to touch the bottom, which was problematic since I couldn’t swim back in. It was fun jumping in the waves and trying not to get a mouthful of water, though. Again, more laughing, face full of water followed by laughing…When we decided it was time to come in, the ocean was not pleased. It kept sucking me back in, knocking me down and washing me back out. I got quite the exfoliation on my rump. The very last wave caught me while I was down, enveloped me, rolled me completely over and spit me back on the shore, thinking that I almost died. I felt like I was underwater for an hour. As soon as the homicidal wave went back for reinforcements, I ran back up to my towel and collapsed in a coughing fit of salt water. It was awful. I’m still draining salt water from my nose.
I will go down to the beach again, maybe tomorrow, but I’ll bring a life vest as a cover-up.