WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge – Show us what a good day looks like.
I don’t even like rain. Not normally… The grey, dreary sky and the giant puddle the town tends to become generally depress me. My days of dancing and kissing in the rain are gone – fun as they may have been, I’ve outgrown them years ago. In fact, I was looking forward to spending the whole day in, catching up on my reading and various other things that needed to be done. And then it started to rain… and my vicious, bitchy, vindictive side took over. I wanted to be out there and see the raindrops fall into the sea… but more than everything, I wanted to see their pouty faces, disappointed looks and disoriented demeanour after it had literally rained on their parade. I’m sure many of those living in touristy areas understand my cruel impulse.
To be fair, I normally don’t mind holiday makers, I’m used to the fact that a few months a year the town doesn’t belong to us anymore; instead, it is invaded by people from all over the country, especially during the weekends. The more it caters for tourist, the higher the prices are, the trendier the place becomes. The fast pace becomes faster, yet the traffic becomes slower; finding parking becomes an utopic endeavour, much like finding a table in a restaurant or a pub or even an empty spot on the beach. Living not far from the beach also means that the neighbourhood will be full of tourists renting apartments wherever they can find them, so they could save some money – you’ll often see a large family or two or several young couples renting a small apartment for a few days or even a week or more. Since most of them drive to the seaside, the extremely narrow streets often become inaccessible for both pedestrians and vehicles. There will constantly be people walking up and down the stairs; rarely will a night go by without somebody having a party and unless you switch off your intercom and disconnect your doorbell, you can be sure somebody will wake you up at least once, ringing the wrong apartment, because they forgot which one they’re in.
That being said, I have to admit that I generally enjoy the summer euphoria, I like to hear the noise of the music from beach clubs in the distance late at night, the same way I love to see how alive and fun the area becomes, I like to be part of that lively scene. But there is such a thing as too much; inevitably there comes a moment when enough is enough and for a short while I begrudge all of them, all those hoards of invaders who behave as though the town existed solely for their entertainment, no matter how that might inconvenience those who have to carry on with their daily life here. That generally happens when you cannot get any rest for days because of the noise or when you find your car dinged in the parking lot once too many times or when the latest batch of holiday makers behave like filthy savages and so on, so on, so on…. That’s when you snap and all you want is for them to go home, no matter how well you understand why they’re here or how much you may enjoy everything that constitutes that summertime, seaside atmosphere.
The past two weeks have been all that and more and I hit my breaking point, so when the rain started today, I was filled with sadistic joy. All of the sudden I wanted to be outside and witness their ruined weekend – sweet, sweet revenge! The first bad weather weekend since late June and I’m feeling no empathy whatsoever, on the contrary… Obviously, not many trusted the forecast, they came to the seaside anyway. Driving away, I could see a good number of them heading back from the beach in a hurry, soaking wet, almost running in the cold rain. Ha! Good, take that, you… you… all of you! (Good thing I remember just in time, I’m too old to stick my tongue out at them; I’ve done that in traffic a few years ago and suffice to say, it was not well received.)The stubborn ones don’t give up that easily, that much I have learnt over the years – they came to the seaside to go to the beach and by god, they will go to the beach and stay there until conditions improve. You often see them huddled up under a tree, an umbrella, in a doorway or wherever they can find refuge as close to the beach as possible; they may even have small children with them, but that will not dissuade them. As I keep driving, I’m experiencing a very pleasant feeling – that of taking back my town; but I can’t help noticing that most of them have already found alternative entertainment in pubs, restaurants and other similar places. Oh well… what can you do…
WEEEEEEE!!!!! The massive SUV in front is speeding up and I know exactly why! I’m with him on this one! I know that puddle coming up is more than your usual puddle, it hides a dip in the not at all perfectly executed road, so it’s deeper than you’d expect. The car on the right speeds up as well – some sort of inferiority complex perhaps? He’s constantly been a pest, cutting people off, changing lanes without signalling, speeding up and slowing down for no good reason, nearly running into a pedestrian trying to cross the road. Besides, he’s an out-of-towner and my sympathy is not with him today. The guy in the SUV is about to teach him a lesson and today I can’t blame him. A swift swish and a wave of water as high as the vehicle washes over the car on our right. He slows down considerably, suddenly suspicious of what other puddles might hide. I laugh with childish pleasure. We are still children at heart, aren’t we? We just don’t jump into puddles anymore, we simply speed up and drive through them…
It’s still raining when I get to the place I had in mind from the very beginning. I was hoping for a calm sea, so I could stare at the raindrops disturbing it’s surface. That’s clearly not the case, but the view is still nice. I’m not the only one who needed to be out on such weather, people are taking in the show from the comfort of their parked cars. I am however among the few going out in the wind and rain in order to take some pictures of the waves breaking against the rocks, practically almost under our feet… or wheels? As I go right by the rail separating us from the sea, the boys in the car next to mine are laughing with anticipation. I suspect bets having been made on how long before it happened. I can’t blame them, I would have done the same. I know what they’re hoping for. More than once I’ve seen waves breaking against the rocks, the water soaking people close to the rail and the hoods of the cars stopped where mine is. I chose the moment wisely though – oh, I really hope I did, I really hope so… Yes, that’s right, I’ve taken my pictures, no wave having washed over me in the process, so I can smugly take the few steps back to my car. Not today, boys, not today! :-)
It’s a pleasant sensation when raindrops and sea water blend, the wind spreading them in your hair, all over your face… I had forgotten that. Good thing I’m wearing waterproof mascara though, or the memory could have become unpleasant. Ok… the boys are getting disturbingly friendly yelling and waving at me from their car… Time for me to go!
Deserted beaches with closed umbrellas and drenched chaise-longues – what a beautiful sight! I know I’m not going to feel the same in a few weeks when summer really is over, when everything changes within a couple of days – one day they’re here, invading the beaches, suffocating the town, the next they’re gone, not to return until next summer. That’s the first sign that it’s officially and unavoidably autumn. That can be a depressing conclusion for somebody who doesn’t like rainy, dreary weather. I know I’m not going to like it then. But what a pleasant sight it is today…