Coffee Talk #11: Into the Beach-Verse (Part 1)
On a very recent Sunday morning we were off to a very smooth start. Our three-year-old decided to sleep in for a bit, which instantly translates to me and my wife sleeping in for a bit. By the time she was starting to get restless, I was already awake enough to quickly scoop her up and head downstairs. The gratifying sounds of the coffee machine always create a pleasurable and welcoming moment for a day that's about to commence. Especially when it is accompanied by my smiling daughter who wants to insert the cup and push the button, making her laugh and imitate the noises at the same time. A few moments later I easily sit back on our comfortable couch, turn on John Coltrane's _A Love Supreme_, and thoroughly enjoy the moment. Good coffee, good music, abundant morning sunlight pouring in through the blinds. As easily as my daughter is entertained by making coffee, as easily she shifts her focus to her collection of toys. Today is a good day.?
Not too long afterwards, I re-upped the coffee game and my wife joined the jazz infused vibes. Coltrane was still going strong, ushering in Giant Steps. Both of us gratefully enjoying the lazy start. And while our daughter was devouring her breakfast, the need for being outside was manifesting itself.?We still had the entire day ahead of us, and our agendas were empty. The beach became the destination.?
It didn't take long to be ready. My wife decided to extend her Sunday morning relaxation at home, and my eleven year old son prioritised his Playstation over whichever idea I threw at him. All good.
So off we went, and roughly 30 minutes later my feet were firmly planted in the sand at our main spot. With all the ingredients for the last day of summer prevailing, people were flocking out in packs to get some. Hardly a cloud in sight, and our Banana Republic's signature temperature reserved for summertime and heat waves only, pushing the boundaries for how humid northwestern Europe can get. A certain stickyness making the beach a perfect getaway to catch a breeze and cool off. To no surprise, the parking lot that usually provides plenty of space at this hour, was already close to its maximum capacity.??
Carefully browsing the scene, while also keeping an eye out for my daughter, making sure she stays hydrated, doesn't start eating sand, doesn't start a ruckus over some other kid's toy, and at the same time not letting my cappuccino get cold. While the place was close to being packed, it actually felt like a serene tranquility settled in with me.? A busy and bustling scene, lots of parents with their young kids, tourists, daytrippers, locals, you name it. Business would be brutal and lucrative today. Music and busy chatter formed a non-disturbing backdrop. With grains of sand slowly trickling down my feet, there was this rare instance in which time doesn't seem to affect you. As if the moment was made out of the very fabric reserved for nostalgic memories only. Inhale. Exhale. With streams of thoughts gently meandering through wherever the flow is taking them.
The random stream of meandering thoughts gradually turned into observations of the surroundings. An eclectic mix of people, representing various walks of life. United by good weather. Shorts, skirts, shirts, and no-shirts. Baseball caps and sun hats. Sunglasses and beach bags. As well as a live exhibition of body art. Tattoos in all shapes and sizes, from pitch black to full colour, are on a continuous display.? There quickly was a clear distinction between the people who settled for the shade, and those who didn't. Some of them were veterans, and came well prepared. Others however, were up for a painful experience. Regardless of how much sunblock they used. In all fairness, I often took a similar approach in my younger years. But after a fair share of moments coloured by reckless ignorance, as well as accidental sunburns, I limit my full exposure to short walks, an arm hanging out of the car window, or a garden coffee moment. Those are sufficient enough to enjoy the sensation of direct sunlight on my skin, while at the same time burning off the office tan. My wife still gets a good laugh every time we mention how badly I got burnt that day we rented a scooter on Phu Quoc island. I can even do you one better: Ask the mini-market store owner down the street from our hotel how bad my face looked. The apologetic smile on his face displayed an honest mix of empathy and bewilderment, clearly questioning how I would score on an intelligence test. A fine example of Vietnamese realness.
The shade is where I prefer to be, especially with these drastic weather conditions. Not just because of the Vietnam incident. Looking back on my personal history with sunblock, calling it a love-hate relationship would be upselling it. Since it feels like applying spray paint to the skin, I only resort to it when absolutely necessary. Sure, the substance can be nicely fragranced, sparking instant recognition when someone walks by or the breeze carefully picked it up.? But it always feels thick and leaves a weird sensation when you've taken a swim afterwards. It always reminds me of a weird scene from Robocop (Yes, I'm born in the eighties), where a sun block commercial disclaimer says that using their product significantly increases the chances of developing cancer. Subconsciously, that scene must have planted a seed in the back of my mind. I've been trying to avoid the substance ever since.
Back to the large group of people enjoying what could very well be the last day of summer, without a single care in the world. Subjected to the unseen dangers of temporary paradise. Melanomas in the making. Halfway through my cappuccino and contemplation starts kicking in. I wonder if exposure to direct sunlight is becoming the next smoking. Is sun block one of those products bound for a rapid decline in popularity, or will the next few years bring a change in the? established popular brands? And before that could even be expected, are we going to see a change in the general awarenss?
But for now, coffee and relaxation. The perfect moment on a perfect Sunday. In the shade. Cooler heads will prevail. In this endless reel of temporary paradise.