Saturday, 7 September 2013


My favourite kind of beach is the one I’m not in. I don’t like the feel of salt and water stuck all over me. I don’t like the change rooms and bathrooms there. I don’t like the thick and sticky feel of sunscreen. I don’t like how the beach air turns my hair into twigs. I don't like waves smacking into me, determined to knock me over. I don’t like how the sand makes it twice the effort to walk - I’ve already gone out of bed and made the effort to come all the way out here, why would you make it more difficult for my willpower to walk?

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But I went to the beach with Trang anyway, because I have been a potato for far too long.

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The only thing I liked was the rock pool. The lack of sand and fortress of rocks made me forget I was at the beach for a moment. There were also little crabs and fishes. I tried to google "how to hold a crab at the beach" so I wouldn't get snipped, but all I could find were instructions to dig holes for crabs to fall into. Thanks, wikiHow.

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I came home and excitedly told dad that I saw crabs and his first reaction was "DID YOU CATCH ONE" then quickly became sensible and told me it's illegal to take them home. IT'S LIKE HE KNEW MY INTENTIONS.