A beach called Peter Pan.For reals.
A ridiculously decadent waffle house down the road.
Monkeys that steal food right out your kitchen.
Memories of surfer boys who's names i cant recall, but the minute i think of their salty kisses,they take me back to sixteen years of age all over again.
This is Leisure Bay.
A small sleepy town on the South Coast, where we have been going as a family for close on twenty years, a place cloaked in sea breezy misty happy memories for me,
A place where ill be taking two of my dearest friends in less than two weeks, and i cannot wait to drink wine, read trashy romance novels(I mean when else can you read them but at the beach??)
eat crayfish, live barefoot for a good ten days, and introduce my miss loveliest Marianne and magical Amanda Jane to one of my oldest friends, a little town called Port Edward, a place shabby but lovely, filled to the brim with a charity store, a pharmacy aptly named Strawberry lane, and the best darn fish and chips you will ever have in your whole entire life.
I have included in this post a little montage of what generally happens the minute we arrive at the beach house. Lucy(the dog) and I, run straight from the car, into the ocean in our clothes.
Cos thats how we roll.
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