We left at four in the morning while the rest of the city was still asleep. I sat by the car window and wrapped myself snugly with a scarf. I listened to Petit Biscuit and began to doze off. One time I woke up to look at the dawn outside the window, which was casting this dreamy, bluish glow on our sleepy faces. It felt like a scene belonging to a film, especially in the ending, just as the credits were about to roll in darkness.

We arrived at the beach after five hours on the road. The sound of the lazy waves and the smell of the ocean draw us in. And then I said to myself: welcome, summer.

Right after dropping our bags at our inn, we got on a boat to cruise to other islands. No time for rest; we must swim and do summer-y things. We went to a cave in the middle of the sea and to some other rocky islands where we went snorkeling. Got a bit drunk by midday and took a nap on the beach. Drank some more, laughed way too loud, and did not notice the sea changing tides. After some time, we went on a walk and looked for starfishes and urchins and baby fishes. 

The sunset was breathtaking. Again, it felt like a scene straight out of a film, with children running around in their cute swimming outfits, fishermen heaving their boats closer to shore, laughter in the air, and that golden magic hour light. We sat on the beach and as it got dark, we lied flat on our backs to stare at the stars. I swore the star-speckled inky sky could have swallowed me up.

I took a shower and saw in the bathroom mirror how red I got. My sunburns hurt but I was so happy.

I woke up early the next day at around six a.m. We went to bed rather late the previous night, talking about mythical creatures and folklore, among other things. Took a walk along the shore during sunrise and collected some shells. We then went to a clifftop restaurant for fruit shakes. The view on the top was comparable to a painting, except this one was alive with sounds of the sea and with the salty taste in the wind. Lounged in the beach some more, and thought to myself how this was paradise.

But because good things end eventually, we must also get back to the city before the election day. It was sunset when we reached the city. Only photographs and the sand in our toes remained. 

with love,

abelink