Barefoot Scotswoman

I'm getting the hang of the Aussie way of life, somewhat.

Yesterday I got out of bed early (9am on a Sunday is early for me!) and went down to the beach for a swim even though it looked a bit overcast outside. I have not yet mastered the art of going to bed at 8pm and awakening at the crack of dawn to escape the heat. I packed up my sun shelta, thongs and sunnies and merrily went on my way to the beach at Tugun.

Strewth! I didn't realise it was nipper time. They were out on the beach taking up all my peace and quiet running round like flies round a cow pat. Mind you, it was fun to watch. Shame we didn't come over here when the kids were younger, they might have enjoyed coming along to these sessions.

I managed to put up my sun shelta after saying a few choice words under my breath to the nasty wind, then sat down to read my book until I heard the call of the waves.

As a responsible beach go'er I always read the SLSC boards to check out the conditions before dipping my toes. Sure enough there were strong rips today and we were to stay close to the shore. Not much chance of me going further out what with all the hungry sharks that have been in the news lately!!! I practiced the perfecting of my wave diving whilst trying to keep my dignity by hanging on to my swimmer top - not an easy task. Sorry to all those Kiwi's with VERY good eye sight if I gave you a fright once or twice - ok, you try to keep hold of your swimmer while the waves are bashing you and you're just about drowning and you're trying to look graceful!!!

After a couple of hours I decided that I would call it a day so I packed up and attempted to squash the shelta back into the minute bag that it came in. Why do manufacturers of tents and sleeping bags always make the bags way too small?

I got back to the car and threw my stuff in the boot only to panic when I couldn't find my thongs. After a few minutes of hot sweats thinking that I would never find them if they were buried under the sand I realised that they were in my bag in the boot. Then I thought, what the hey, I'll drive like an Aussie and do it barefoot. I started up the car and on the way home stopped at a supermarket to buy something nice for lunch. This barefoot driving is a dawdle.

Unfortunately, there were no spaces on the road nearest the supermarket so I had to park on the other side and cross over. I didn't bank on the road being so busy and I had to stop in the middle of the road. When I say stop what I really mean is hop. My poor wee Scottish feet aren't used to standing on red hot tarmac! Thankfully I didn't have to wait too long, not long enough for blisters to form anyway. What the other drivers must have thought of me I don't know. Probably something along the lines of "bloody tourists!".

I checked the notice on the shop door to make sure I would not be arrested on sight for not wearing footwear and was relieved to read that skateboards, bikes and scooters were the baddies today. My feet were so glad to be touching air conditioned floors I can tell you!

After making my selections I went to the checkout and was greeted by an embryo who asked if I'd been down to the beach and was it hot? How did he know I'd been down there? Could it be something to do with the wild and wet hair? My sand covered legs - surely this young dude would not be eyeing up the legs of someone older than his granny!?

Anyway, after this attempt at trying to fit in with the locals, I have to say that I didn't feel quite right about shopping barefoot. Maybe it's something to do with my good old Britishness. It didn't feel hygienic and although no-one looked twice at me I kept waiting for a hand on my shoulder.

Given time I'm sure I'll end up with soles like leather ;o)