Arwen's meanderings

Hi everyone and welcome to my new blog. My name is Steve and i am the lucky owner of a John Welsford designed 'navigator' named Arwen. I built her over three years with the help of my father, father-in-law and two children. She was launched in August 2007 at Queen Anne's battery marina in the barbican area of Plymouth. This blog is a record of our voyages together around SW England.
Arwen has a YouTube channel of her own. Search "plymouthwelshboy".

Tuesday, 20 September 2016

Sicilian beaches..................

Diary extracts................

"Scala del Turchi. Bright white marl cliffs worn smooth by the sea".

"They gave me ample opportunities for another favoured pastime....people watching. But clearly I'm getting old. Surrounded by bronzed, lithe, lean and fit twenty and thirty something's, taking selfies of themselves lying sunbathing in dips in the marl beds, I realized that as a fifty four old, overweight Welsh bloke with sagging stomach, I was clearly out of place. Maybe it was my deep brown arms, lower legs and face and the brilliant white, never seen the sun in centuries upper torso that drew the stares. The British abroad, you can spot them at five hundred paces!!  At least, in my defence, I wasn't sporting the lobster pink burnt to a crisp look that so many of my countrymen sport nowadays abroad. I do have some shred of dignity left!"

"The sea was warm; you could paddle across the marl beds as they ran outwards into the sea. Between them were deep clear gullies, warmed by the sun, reaching the temperature of a hot bath. Small fish darted between the beds of sea grass and that was pretty much it. Any marine life had the common sense to stay clear. The small beach that ran along the cliff base was heaving".

"I have always admired how Italians do the beach. Minimalist towel, one beach umbrella, a small cool bag and a beach bag, four pairs of different sunglasses per person, mobile phones, goes without saying and that is it. Literally that's it.  The British? Chairs, windbreaks, beach tents, buckets, spades, boules, cricket sets, wet suits, kitchen sink, the use of a hire van to transport everything including Granny and Granddad.

It is an amazing contrast in styles.

Trevone beach in Cornwall will never quite seem the same again. The best thing I saw today, a man walked into the sea, filled a shiny metallic red spray bottle and returned to his girlfriend under their umbrella and then proceeded to slowly spray her body with cool sea water every two minutes for an hour whilst she tanned herself. I Lie not!

That is truly impressive dedication. British lads, you haven't a chance boys!" 

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