Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I think there is a poem that talks something about following footsteps in the sand. What the poem neglects to mention is that while following these damn footsteps, you should carefully watch where you're going, because sometimes random sticks/stumps/hazards are sticking out of the sand and if you are as graceful as I am, you will inevitably kick them. As a friendly warning, keep a special eye out for SoDs (sticks of death) when you are strolling the beaches Down Under.
Thought briefly that this might be my last snapshot ever...
You probably think that I’m being dramatic, don’t you? Well, you would be right. But it hurt like hell and that, mixed with slight dehydration after walking for two hours and mild disorientation, sent me into a bit of a tizzy. As I hobbled up the path from the beach to the road, I felt as though I was the star of an episode of ‘I Shouldn’t Be Alive.’ In my head, I saw myself getting on my hands and knees, sunburned and dehydrated, crawling through the burning sand to safety, where my toe would eventually be wrought with gang green and fall off. Someday I would be found alone in the park, surrounded by dingoes sniffing at my dead body. In reality, I made my way to a bench where I sat down and temporarily felt sorry for myself, riddled with thoughts like ‘Great. Now what shoes am I supposed to wear when we go out tonight?’
I’m happy to report that after cleaning up and surveying the damage to the toe from the SoD, it is fairly minor. More importantly, it hasn’t deterred me from returning to the gorgeous beach, exploring my new home town or drinking beer with friends. All good!
On a brighter note, I managed to capture some nice images on my walk before things took the downhill turn. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!
Very short building (obviously named after Ryan Seacrest)
View of Surfer’s Paradise
A look toward the Spit
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