|Wreck Beach, towards sunset|
This is a sandy makeshift community away from the city that overlooks the Georgia Strait, where there are clothing and food stalls, logs, water, trees, sunshine (weather dependant) and is pretty much one big feel-good celebration, with a hard-high atmosphere where everyone looks out for each other, there is however one anomaly, there's a large amount of shlongy-hang-dangy-cocking-member on display. This beach appears to be 'clothing-optional' beach.
For the first 20 minutes here, as my friends and I were setting up camp and having a beach-nic (picnic on the beach) all you can see are penises everywhere, the ladies do join in and a number of young people join in, but because the men are more active, their junior tallywhacker counterparts are free to also join in the fun, to my visual displeasure.
|My vision through burnt retinas (via entheosweb.com)|
After that initial 20 minutes were up, your retinas are too burnt to take in any more flesh you go completely blind to your surroundings and you get to enjoy this magnificent party place, just the occasional reflection of light from Prince Albert piercings hitting on your eyeballs, remind you of where you really are. We remained clothed, as it's the British thing to do.
One of the group brought their equipment for slackline along so we set this up on an unused empty volleyball court between two poles. Slackline is like tightrope walking, but less taut, similar to walking on a long thin trampoline. Your foot goes weird and starts swaying from side to side like you're in an Earthquake and walking on it is very difficult and I'm not entirely sure why it exists or what the point of it is.
|This is slacklining, for your information (via eskimo.com)|
Halfway falling off this one inch belt onto my face, our group was approached by a man and he looked disgruntled. When he spoke, it would seem his facial expressions would match his mood. His disgruntled manner would lead his tongue as he went on beating the bush about how we're using the court for slacklining and not volleyball, and what if someone wanted to use it to play volleyball? - Perhaps using the empty court next to us, might solve your issues, pointing this out to him, didn't help things.
I'm sure he had a valid argument in there somewhere within the very sober manner of which he spoke to us, the only problem is, we couldn't take a word of what he was saying seriously, as he was wearing nothing but the beige suit he was born in and had a habit of shifting his body weight from one leg to the other, making his junior move to the way as to how he was feeling, like a pantomime puppet.
His parting words before he went off to sulk was “I find you all wearing clothes very offensive to my eyes and being” as his sidekick reiterated the point in a one finger mime, it was at that point I had to remove myself from this conversation and go laugh up a lung somewhere far away from earshot.
We did as the man said and we set the volleyball nets back up, he returned with 10 naked buddies and their pets and proceeded to play volleyball on the empty court, all I can really remember from this was that I just stared into the sun to avoid seeing the man-display as it was not a sight I really wanted to see nor be able to recollect at any time in the future.
We ended up playing on the newly reinstated court, listening to steel drums and cheers in the distance, as the sun edged closer and closer to the horizon. After the sun had set, the beach party closed until tomorrow.
|The Sun eventually crashed into the horizon.|