A Mini Rant

The beach. Where you will never find Shaun.

It’s Summer time at the moment in Cape Town, and apparently the beaches around here are packed. I say apparently, because I have no idea, I haven’t seen it for myself, nor do I intend to either.

Without wanting to sound too strong on the matter, I completely and utterly hate beaches. With a passion. Think of the one thing or person you hate, multiply that by your age, and you will get an understanding of how much I dislike the beach.

I just don’t see the point of spending hours lazing about on the shores of Camps Bay or Clifton, getting hundreds of sandy granules in your ears, nose and other crevices on your body, all the while artificially ageing yourself in the quest for the perfect tan.

I would rather get a colonoscopy then spend an entire day on the beach.

The whole concept of tanning also mystifies me. As far as I’m aware, it’s meant to make you more attractive to the opposite sex, whilst also promoting the fact that you are supposedly living a healthier lifestyle. I’ve never known biltong to look sexy however, and that’s exactly what the sun will eventually do to you, turning you into a dried piece of salted meat.

The sun ages us. Badly. A recent study at a local university showed that a three hour stint under the African sun, was the equivalent of smoking up to thirty cigarettes at a time, this being regardless of wearing sun screen.

Swimming at the beach is a pretty terrible idea as well. With the amount of germs and faecal (that’s right, faecal) matter you ingest during a swim in the sea, you may as well dunk your head into a public loo. A public loo which was just used by a fat man who had dodgy Indian curry the night before.

Besides that, there is of course also the threat of getting eaten by the vast number of Great White Sharks and other sea predators who frequent our shores. I’ve always been very skeptical about these marine experts who claim that sharks don’t enjoy eating humans.

Let’s face it, at the end of the day, everyone likes a bit of variety in their diet. No matter how much you may love seals and small fish, it’s always great to try something new, and I believe sharks are no different.

I can just imagine the husband shark coming home to his shark family after a long day of cruising with his mates in the Atlantic. “Christ, baby seal again???,” he will lament to his long suffering shark wife, “ I’m going to Fish Hoek beach to get some take away instead.”

Not that you can blame sharks for eating us though. For some bizarre reason, we insist on swimming on their turf, despite regularly having one of our numbers gobbled up by them. It’s a bit like a prime steak casually walking around my kitchen and frying pan, and then wondering why I have grabbed him by the rump and grilled him to succulent perfection.

No thanks, I will rather be sticking to pools and bathtubs of cold water this Summer. I may have milky grey thighs, but they are young-looking milky grey thighs. More importantly however, they are still attached to my young-looking milky grey bum, and by me staying off the beach, that’s exactly how they will stay.

Oakes signing off.