I didn't mention event number one yesterday, which occurred as I was on my way to the internet place to write a blog, but since it was joined by another event later in the day, it became worth writing about. Like I say, I was on my way to use the internet, with my iPod on, wandering down the sunny street, with my iPod in my hand, looking at the screen, trying to find the next tune I wanted to hear, walking along, looking at the screen - this town isn't like the capital: there's no shit in the streets, so you don't need to look where you're going all the time - I'm walking along in the sun, choosing the next track from my iPod, looking at the screen, and then...
Slow motion. When I thought about it later, I wondered if the music had slowed down too, because everything else seemed to slow down. I was lost in the list of albums on the screen of my iPod and didn't realise what was happening, but it was happening so slowly that I eventually realised that I should stop looking at the screen and consider the world outside of the list of albums. I realised that my right leg was sliding from beneath me and, as soon as I realised, there was that cartoon moment where, upon realising what should happen next, the next event happens. I found myself on the floor, on my side: my right foot had slipped on the sandy incline of the smooth dropped kerb and I was on the floor, on my right hip. After a further moment's thought, the exclamation came: "What the fuck?!" I said, utterly bemused at what had just happened. I then realised that the preceding ten seconds or so had probably only just been a couple of seconds at most, and that, yes, I'd taken a tumble. I got up, looked around to see if anyone had seen what happened, noticed only a guy in the nearby garage working on a car, and went on my way. Fortunately, I was wearing my longer shorts, so I didn't scrape my knee, but my foot took a slight scraping and my hip is a touch bruised. Anyway, I must've known it was coming, because only that morning I decided to put the protective cover back on my iPod. It did me proud. Otherwise, the corner of my iPod would be scraped too.
Anyway, I got over the fall and went to the beach in the afternoon for the first time in a couple of days (it had been miserable the previous day , and previous to that it had been too windy). It was nice to see that the weather was being kind to me on my last day of sunbathing at the seaside. I put my towel down, put my iPod on, and lay in the sun, soaking it all up and drifting off into a peaceful place. It was great: there was a slight breeze which kept me cool, but the sun was shining brightly. I lay there for over an hour.
I lay there for over an hour, and while I was lost in the music and the sunshine and the joys of the beach, I suddenly became alert to the scream of a child, and the sensation that someone was throwing water on my head. It took me a short while to react, but I sat up to see what was going on: who was throwing water at me, why were the kids playing so close to me?! That was when I discovered that I'd been wrong and that I wasn't the victim of a waterfight gone astray: the scream had indeed been related to the soaking I'd taken, but unrelated to my own personal circumstances.
I got up instantly, grabbing my bag and my towel: the soaking had come from the sea, which was coming in, and had suddenly made an unexpectedly large advance up the beach! I got to safety, and couldn't stop laughing. I looked out at the sea: it was close, but not so close that I should have been hit by the water. The advance had been a one-off. I looked around to see if anyone was laughing. I know that I was laughing, and I would have been laughing even more if I'd seen myself become the victim of one of Mother Nature's pranks. I looked at my towel: my giant beach towel was soaked and covered in sand. It weighed a tonne. I checked my bag to make sure my notebook hadn't got wet, and felt relieved that I'd had the foresight to put everything else in the bag in small plastic bags. Everything was safe, fortunately. But my towel was ruined and my t-shirt was drenched too: how was I going to continue the sun worship?!
I realised that I'd have to leave my towel in a place where it could dry off. Luckily, on the beach here there are private areas where people have their own little tents. The frames for the tents are made of steel and a permanent feature of the beach: nearby, such a structure existed that wasn't in use. I headed over there to drape my wet towel and t-shirt over the framework, and used my water bottle to beat the sand out of the towel as best as I could. It was actually quite pleasant to just sit on the sand and watch the towel flapping in the wind: it barely moved at first due to its weight, but slowly began to lighten as it dried, and swung increasingly large distances. After an hour, when the sun had pretty much gone, it was light enough and dry enough to be carried again, and my t-shirt was dry and good to wear.
Still, the towel was slightly damp and still held a fair amount of sand, so I dropped it off at the launderette on my way home. At least I now have a clean towel to take back to the city with me, so I won't be getting sandy every time I lie in the park from now on...
And that's pretty much the end of my little break: I guess it had to end with a small dose of misfortune. Hey, I do it just to make you guys laugh...
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