Recently, whilst down south, I had a delightful excuse to visit the seaside.
The temperature was in the early thirties centigrade and having explored the town I needed to cool off.
Whilst I had laid out in my swimming costume with the sun on my skin a few days before, I really am not one for just sunbathing. Thus, skin liberally covered in waterproof protective oil, wearing my favourite swimming costume, I walked into the sea to cool off. At first it was cold, very cold, akin to the temperature of my local pool, which is always on the chilly side. It did however, not take long to acclimatise, the salty cold water on my hot sweat covered skin was bliss. I wanted to make my way deeper. Take my body further out, to swim into the waves.
The water didn’t just get deeper, there were sandbanks, the water, changed from being shoulder height to knee hight in centimetres. Suddenly warmer, with the behaviour of the waves changing too. Small shoals of tiny shiny fish swam with me, as the small waves crashed over my body.
I haven’t more than paddled in the sea for many years. I have just not been by a warm coast. The north sea is cold, very cold, though I do always feel the need to at least get my feet wet. The sea on the south coast, was warm, it was begging to be swum in.
Mini would move to the seaside in a heartbeat. Maxi would too, but without the pure excitement of his younger brother. In fact, I am begged, on what seems like a daily basis, to move to the seaside. “Please Mama, can we move next to a wide sandy beach so I can make sand castles whenever I want”
Though Mini isn’t fussy. I think he would be as happy moving to a northern island of Shetland, to play on their beautiful, clean, deserted beaches as to the busy warm ones on the south coast. As long as there is sand and sea he would be happy.