Previous Articles

Foreign Thoughts

The Manana Prospect

Forget the footie, let's have a fiest!

My trouble with bouyancy

The Bird man of El Cotillo

Kite surfing - another form of madness?

Beach Life

A week in my dental life

Surfbum v Bugs!

The man with the middle aged smile

Con La Misma Sangre

Jive Bunny's Birthday bash

Near Death Experience #22

El Cotillo, the good, the bad and the unattractive

 Sculptures in the Sand

Near death experience #76

Mirror, Signal, Manoeuvre

Fuerte Musica 2007

Day was Arriving




Life without pockets.

Oh dear, the naturists are on the roof!

Cast your mind back, if you will, to good old U.K., and an afternoon spent mowing the lawn or pottering in the garden. Your neighbour leans over the fence for a chinwag. That’s where the similarity ends.

There I was on the roof terrace, attempting to secure some laundry sufficiently that it wouldn’t give the village something else to talk about, when the lady over the wall caught my attention, but not with her friendly smile, as that is all she was wearing!



I fully expected a Germanic tongue and thus would easily make my “polite” escape, but her rich Midlands argot assailed my ears catching me completely off guard, and with her similarly naked husband acknowledging my presence with a cheery wave and the raising of a glass, it took all my diplomatic effort to beat the retreat. I really don’t mind if people want to go nude, and it must seem that I am becoming

A) Prudish, B) Obsessed with the subject C) Both

Actually the truth is simply that I have never really considered a life without pockets! .
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More interesting was the sight of a gent floating on his back in the old harbour. Interesting you say, hardly? But take a closer look at the picture, what is floating at his side? Must be his very well trained pooch.



My personal image of the week, with the most dignity, and bravery, concerns a gent on the surf beach. He was with his wife and young family, and all were enjoying his exploits on a boogie board. The remarkable thing about this gent was that he only had one leg.

No, I didn’t have the temerity to photograph him, nor did I render assistance as he clambered out of the surf, onto his walking aid and back to his waiting girls. I suspect he is quite tired of well meaning, yet interfering sympathy. But he gets my vote.

Don’t forget the sun cream…

Surf Bum
 


Surf Bum
Donald Innes is a writer and photographer, see more of his pictures on
http://donaldinnesross-aplaceforinnes.blogspot.com If you are interested in buying any of his pictures just call him on 662 529580