Wednesday 12 October 2011

Last Perfect Day of Summer




Just when we thought summer was a distant, drab memory, it returned this weekend, in a blaze of heat and blue sky. In fact, this was what made it so special - everyone had started gritting their teeth for the onset of   cold, turning their heating on, getting out the Ugg boots, and then, BAM!  we were hit with a glorious sunny weekend. And so the beach, from Brighton Pier to the end of Hove, was rammed with locals and holiday makers, day-trippers... who cares, none of us did; all in it together, sharing the joy, filling every possible space of that stony beach - dogs, barbeques, toddlers, all squeezed in together in one (slightly dangerous) mush. 


Usually I'd take exception to this. I hate crowded beaches. I tend to think I own the stretch from the start of Hove Lawns to its end, and woe betide anyone who dare befriend me/ talk loudly next to me/set up a stinky barbeque in front of me and then proceed to sing Bob Dylan songs to an out-of-tune guitar. But all of these sat fine with me, because Sunday was the last perfect day of summer. I swam to exhaustion, and then I swam some more. Then I lay in my bikini until the sun turned cherry above me.





Magnet: Last Day of Summer

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