I just went down to the beach. I didn’t take my board because, as the Umdloti crew know, I can’t be bothered with anything under five feet.
So I thought I might have myself a good swim but, when I stuck my head under the water there were none of those familiar clicking noises so I knew my friends were playing away. I love my dolphins. They give me a good goof for my money.
I toyed with the idea of swimming out to one of the ships anchored several miles out but none seemed to answer to the description of a megayacht teeming with Genevieve Morton look-a-likes tanning topless around the pool so I gave that a miss too.
The wind was down, ruling out any rad kitesurfing, and after the really rather rude way in which a Great White tried to chomp my leg the other day, I decided against free-wrestling with sharks as a way to enhance my Friday.
So what was an extreme sportsman like me to do? I fell back on a doing a spot of shell-collecting, of course. But I hadn’t even located my first cowrie when I was nearly knocked off my feet by a young woman. Not the Viennese Vixen this time, thank Godness, but by a powerwalker.
At least I think that’s what they call them. You know, those people, usually retired and wrinkly, who try to walk really fast and move their arms with a vicious pump-action vibe. But this one was young and, to be honest, quite foxy and, after nearly walking through me, she kicked up the sand as she zoomed, road-runner-like, over the horizon with clenched fists punching the air. I saw less focus in the eyes of Usain Bolt when he drilled the 100m in about 2.3 seconds a few months ago.
I mean, after croquet, foxhunting, WWF wrestling and running very long distances to possibly pick up a medal, powerwalking has to be the most ridiculous extra-mural activity around.
This was all quite upsetting, especially after the double-whammy of having no dolphins to swim with or sharks to beat up, so I came home.
My mood was immediately uplifted when I saw a surfer friend had sent me an update on the lifestyle progress of my boy Rob Machado. For those of you who aren’t up to speed on Rob, he’s a pretty decent surfer and, I’m stoked to say, is certainly showing some improvement in getting his lifestyle right.