Life's A Beach

Each day we went to the beach and Dad would make a large hole in the sand near the water’s edge.  Then he would put a little wall around it so we could have a ‘bath’ when the waves filled it with water. 

We loved this as we weren’t getting splashed by the waves of cold water and we could paddle etc. to our hearts content.  Mum and dad liked it as they felt we were contained. 

Unfortunately, the waves would erode it eventually.  This was by no means the biggest destructive force; I was. ;)

I enjoyed sliding down and pretending to be humpty dumpty or trying to stomp on the wall as if it was a sand castle to be concquered.  Alex did help alittle.  This meant that dad was left constantly repairing the wall defences.

When I wasn’t destroying the ‘bath’ I was trying to engage Alan to play.  Alan was trying to sunbath but I kept asking him to look at shells, sticks, etc.  Alan managed to ignore me so I had no choice other than to came back to the ‘bath’. 




Each time we went to the beach mum would pack a frozen picnic - milk, water, oranges, apples, piklets.  She'd pack them frozen and by the time we were hungry they'd have thawed out enough to be cool and refreshing.

 


  
 
Most of the time I played with Alex or mum and dad as everyone spoke French except for us.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
On one occassion, about 15mins before we decided to leave, a little boy (about 5 who mum thought might have ADHD as he was a bit manic in his behaviour) came up and admired the ‘bath’ dad had made. 

 
 
 

We invited him to play and he was very excited.   Despite the fact that we didn't speak each other's language we had managed to communicate enough to build a sand castle or two.  We ended up to play for about 30 mins. 

Alex would have his nap whilst we were at the beach.  We'd often bring a pop up tent but Alex wouldn't sleep in it so mum and dad rigged up some shade with the pram.