It was a poor attempt to exercise. But the whole house headed off to the beach for a walk. We walked from Seacliff to Brighton and then back again.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Perfect beach weather. We decided to walk along the shore towards Brighton, then walk on the foot paths back to the car to shake off the sand on our feet.
The thing was, it wasn’t all sand towards Bright Jetty, we had to wade in water at certain parts. And I didn’t really want to get wet because I didn’t have extra clothes with me. None of us did. As we approached the part where people were wading across a short ‘channel’ type thing, Sash tried to reassure me that I wouldn’t get wet because the person ahead was only ankle-deep in water. That person was probably 6 feet tall, mind you, I am pathetically small. Where that person’s ankle would be where my knees are. Sure enough, when I got into the water, the water was somewhere between my ankles and knees. When we reached another one, I was practically screaming ‘That person’s knees would be where my hips reach!’. I somehow managed to escape dry though.