|
| Friday, December 30, 2005 |
| Beachy goodness |
Yesterday, Ata and Mr Ata went to Goolwa to visit Mr Ata's Best Man and his wife. Best Man's Wife's family hire a house at Goolwa every year at Christmas, but this is the first time Ata & Mr Ata have gone to visit.
Friends-Around-The-Corner were due to collect Ata & Mr Ata at 0900. The drive to Goolwa is about two hours. At 0845, Ata located Mr Ata. What was he doing? Printing a sheet of poker instructions from the computer.
"Are you ready to go?" sayeth Ata.
"Yes" replies Mr Ata. Ata is immediately suspicious.
"Have you packed everything you need?" she presses.
"Yes," insists Mr Ata. "I just need to get a towel." Ata is not convinced. "And my bathers." Ata narrows her eyes, still suspicious. "And some toiletries, and my book and..."
Ata waves her hands in the air, pleading. "Well! Friends-Around-The-Corner will be here in a few minutes! What are you doing?!"
Mr Ata turns back to the computer. "In a minute. I'm just printing this..."
Finally, Ata and Mr Ata are pretty much ready to go. "When are they picking you up?" queries Ata's Mother.
Ata glances at the clock. It reads 0915. "0900" says Ata. Ata's Father laughs.
At the dot of 0918, F-A-C (Friends-Around-the-Corner) arrive. After some bundling of baggage, we are on our way.
After a stop to wash the car, buy morning tea, and another stop for coffee, we are really on our way.
The house in Goolwa is full of family. We sit on the balcony and look over the sand dunes to the sparkling sea while we eat rolls & salad for lunch. Ata very carefully does not mention whale sperm. When lunch is eaten and Mr Ata and Best Man have had a couple of rounds of pool, we head for the beach. F-A-C decide to wander the streets of Goolwa instead. Ata has new bathers, purchased the day before specifically for this occasion, so she is damn well going swimming.
The sand is beige, overlaid with sweeping arcs of white. The beach is flat and shallow, and the waves run a long way up to arrange and re-arrange the white arcs. Something in the sand sparkles, so the wet beach glitters like a constellation of tiny ideas. The water is crystal, even where the surf has picked up sand and foams brown. Each grain of sand is sharp and clear, dancing and scintillating in the water. The waves are fairly big. Ata likes waves. She walks slowly into the water, letting each wave wet her an inch higher. The sea is sharp and cool. Best Man's Wife is keeping an eye on her husband, lest he decide to dunk her, but the boys have gone far out into the water. Best Man's Wife's Brother is temporarily lost in the waves, and the others go to find him. As it turns out, he has reached the sand bar, so when the waves recede for a moment long enough to locate him in their troughs, he is standing in waist-deep water. The boys head out to join him and bodysurf. Ata does not care to bodysurf. She likes to leap into the waves, best of all when it can be timed so the crest of the breaking wave slaps into her chest, sending arcs of water spraying all around. One wave catches her by surprise. A big one, it is too late to dive under and too late to ride over - the crest breaks just in front of her and Ata takes a run through the spin cycle. Tumbling around and over in all directions, Ata knows for a moment just how Falling Bubble Girl felt. The ride finishes before breath runs out, and ends with a bumped forehead, a bruised knee, and Ata spitting seawater and laughing. When the waves tire her, Ata walks out of the water feeling like a sea sprite, sunkissed and wet. Everyone lazes about on the sand a while. One of the boys collects a few cockles with sand and water in an upturned frisbee, and we watch them siphon water through themselves. If you hold them up by the bottom of the shell just above the sand, the muscular foot reaches out and tugs against the wet sand until you drop it and it can bury itself again.
There is a kiosk further down the beach. Everyone eats icecream before walking back to the house. Is there anything better than a shower and unsalted dry clothes after swimming in the ocean? At the house there is more games of pool, and eating the lollies F-A-C bought on their wander through Goolwa. Arrangements are made to spend New Year's Eve at F-A-C's house.
By the time we get home it is 2130. Ata's bruised knee is sore and Mr Ata is slightly sunburnt. Ata's parents are staying in the Barossa overnight, so the house is quiet and only the cats greet the homecomers.
Sometimes Ata forgets why she loved living by the sea so much.
And sometimes she remembers. |
posted by Ata @ 10:33 am  |
|
| 2 Comments: |
-
Ah, that sounds like a perfect day, Ata! I love going to the beach... Our beach had bugger all waves, though, but it was nice to bob around in the water and laugh.
-
I have made a note that I shall visit Ata's beach one day. It just sounds perfect.
|
| |
| << Home |
| |
|
|
|
|
Ah, that sounds like a perfect day, Ata! I love going to the beach... Our beach had bugger all waves, though, but it was nice to bob around in the water and laugh.