Spanish beaches

Some thoughts on Spanish beaches.

The sand is unlike any sand I've touched. It does not want to wash off of you. It sticks to your toes, your heels, your ankles, and no light rinse will get it off. Major scrubbing is in order before you curl up into bed (or else it feels like an nighttime exfoliation scrub on your lower half, and trust me, it is not as nice as it sounds). While walking in the sand it is very soft and sucks you in when you are at shoreline. In San Diego the sand sort of does this if you stand still long enough to let wave after wave suck the sand away from around your feet. But the sand in Spain sucks you in right away making you fight for every moment to not be trapped on that beautiful beach with a beautiful view for forever.

The views are incredible. It is odd to this west coast girl to not see the sun set directly above the water but I will happily settle for a warm breeze sunset as the sun sinks behind lush green mountains. Except that sunsets happen at 9:30pm. That is much too late. I'm typically already in my PJ's!

The bodies on the beach are not southern Californian beach bodies I am accustomed to (I can't speak for northern Californian beach bodies because I haven't seen enough of them to form an opinion). The patrons of the water are all ages and they come from all around the world. There are your standard young women in perfectly fitting swimsuits ("bathers" as Aussies call them or "swim costume" to which I say IT IS NOT A COSTUME, HRUMPF), and toned men in skimpy speedos. But there are also a great deal of older people enjoying their retirement on the water and most of these women lounge about topless. Moms of young children too let it all hang out while their offspring romp naked in that hard to scrub off sand. It was such a relaxing atmosphere of people not caring what they looked like. Some bask in the sun, some do aqua aerobics in the still water, some jog, some get fantastic volleys going with their badminton set. For some time Dasha, Melissa, and myself did as the locals did and tanned parts of our bodies that are not accustomed to having sunblock on. It was refreshing. And nobody cared. And thank goodness I saw no SFDS families in San Sebastian.

The water is cold. Yes the sun is warm but the water is cold. The Atlantic is cold. I'm sure the beaches on the Mediterranean are completely different but the Spanish beaches I encounters did not entice you to linger in the languid current of the ocean. I was blessed to see schools of fish swim past my feet as I got in and out of the water.

The proportion of people on the beach to people in the water makes me giggle. Here in Spain you go to the beach to be on the beach and look out onto the water. You rarely go in.


Someday I will need to return to experience the southern beaches for myself but in the meantime I have very tan forearms and a lightly pink backside to remember my brief affair with Spanish beaches.