Summer Holiday Beach Destinations

The Beach, The Seaside , 16 May 2016

5 Things I’d Forgotten About Being On The Beach

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Last month, I dipped my toes in the sea for the first time this year. In an instant summer washed over all my senses along with my feet – it was there in the feel of the cool on my sun-baked skin, the smell of the ocean and grilled fish in the air, the tanginess of salt on my tongue when I opened my mouth, the blue stretching out as far as my eyes could see, the rush of waves making their feisty advances and retreats. It was all so familiar – and yet I’d somehow forgotten. I jotted down some of the other things – some great, some not so much – that are uniquely summer sensations… //

Print On Skin / The odd and entirely unwelcome phenomenon of being able to read a paper/magazine on your own skin belongs to days of greasy suncream. This time, I fell asleep with a copy of the Tatler acting as a sunshade and woke up with the Queen’s face plastered on mine. It was around the time of her 90th birthday and I think my fellow beach-goers must’ve thought it a rather outré homage to her Maj’.

Lowering Into The Water / Toes in the water = blessed relief from the heat. Arms draped and flapped in and out = chilly, but nonetheless delightful. The lowering of the tank section of the body = hellish. At first. After a few seconds of swearing and wriggling as the deep freeze penetrates, it gives way to a glorious cool that lasts for a good ten minutes after hopping back onto a warm sun bed.

Sand, Sand, Sand / As I gingerly lowered myself into the sea that first time, I remembered how last summer I’d rather inelegantly ended up with sand everywhere after the sea had toppled me over in Menton. I exercised caution this time throughout my dip, and yet on removing my swimming costume: sand. It got in everywhere: in my beach bags, between the pages of my book, into the recesses of my suitcase and – amazingly – into the drawers of my London make-up cabinet.

The Ocean - Greece

The First Baring of The Body / ‘The Body’ makes it sound rather like I was unveiling something of McPherson’s physical greatness. Alas, no: I was reminded how very cruel winter is to the old form when first walking into sunlight wearing a bikini – the words pale and wobble aptly describe my form on that first harrowing outing. There were no pictures taken on that day…

Listening To An iPod / While I do this pretty much every day on the tube and when I’m marching across London (usually late – as you’ll know if you’ve watched this vlog), I do so as an act of blocking noise out rather than inviting music in. Listening to a bit of MJ on my commute is far preferable to hearing the rickety rack of the carriage journeying through a tunnel and the coughs and splutters of commuters. On the beach, I listen purely for pleasure, veering between 90s hip hop (hello No Diggity), classic stuff and the odd bit of jazz. Hell, I even throw on a Desert Island Disc from time to time to team the theme…

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