Thursday, 11 October 2012




It was a evening late in summer, almost autumn, when we decided to sleep on the beach. We packed sleeping bags and a tent and drove to a secluded beach. Trees surrounded it so closely that some had fallen in the water leaving skeletons of wood protruding out.

We walked along past a wooden pier. I remembered being there a few months before, seeing boys with their shirts off fishing and drinking beer in the late summer evening. We kept walking until we found a verge of grass slightly higher up than the beach where thick forest ended - the ground seemed flat so we began to set up our tent there. After walking around and exploring, we sat and chatted; enjoying what would be the last of our warm weather.

The fisherman tended to their nets in the distance, the tide was far out, leaving little boats stranded on the sand. A man came by digging for periwinkles and placing them in his bucket. As the light faded and the fisherman went home, he switched on the light of his hat and carried on digging.
We set up a fire and began to cook our dinner. We had brought along home made bread stuffed with cheese, and we cooked burgers on the fire and listened quietly to music whilst drinking wine. There was a gentle breeze in the air as the sun went down and left us sitting in blackness.

For hours we sat - in the distance you could see the mainland across the water, the city lights twinkled, large boats all lit up silently crossed the sea in the dark. There were at least two different cities we could see across the long stretch of water, parts became misty and we realized there was a storm forming out at sea - it reached us not so long after and we closed up our tent to keep dry.

The night was a restless one, at points we slept sound, another point the water came up so high we worried it would reach the bank and come through our tent. At times, the sea crashed so hard against the rocks next to us it was impossible to sleep.

In the morning, we woke early and opened the door to our tent to watch the morning boats. The tide was once again far out, leaving our path clear to go home.