Beaches

As a child beaches meant a day trip to Chalkwell and Leigh-on-Sea. (Mum doesn't do Southend – too tacky). These are incomparable to the beaches on Kos. Crystal clear water in place of murky sewage-infested gloop; fine sand instead of mud flats.

Sunny Beach near Kefalos

Tingaki

Tingaki is my favourite. Past the sun loungers is a narrow sweep of sand dotted with short trees which provide not only shade but somewhere to keep your belongings sand free (you hang everything from the branches – always watch the locals). Even a scaredy-cat incompetent swimmer such as myself can walk out for what seems miles without a care.

Tingaki

The English seem to have caught onto the idea of suntan lotion. We saw very few bright red people (usually older men with big bellies) but they still don't manage the beach with the same style as the Italians or Greeks.

The English: arrive at the beach once their hangover has worn off.
The Italians: arrive at the beach by 9am.

The English: refuse the shade of a parasol and lay flat out in the sun during the hottest part of
the day.
The Italians: sit under the parasol during the hottest part of the day and take frequent dips in the water.

The English: have some food with their midday beer.
The Italians: drink water with their midday food.

The English men: leer at all females in a bikini and make stupid comments to their mates.
The Italian men: walk up and down the shore and let the women look at them.

The English: leave the beach at 4pm to sleep before partying all night.
The Italians: leave the beach at 6pm before having a kip, eating a decent meal and partying all
night.

I was born in the wrong country.