Sandringham

I have never had a swim in Australian waters. I have had many beach outings, visiting different stretches of sand that line Port Phillip Bay and even to Wilson's Promontory, but I have never physically stripped off my clothing for a swim in the sea.

The air was a balmy 34 degrees as the boyfriend and I set out on our little adventure. Slopping on generous amounts of sunscreen to keep the boyfriend quiet about the 'dangers of skin cancer', I climb into an extremely tight fitting singlet from the days when I used to be much bulkier and had more to show. Today all I had on display were sections of well-positioned flab and a flat chest, but I was too lazy to be bothered about dressing 'modestly' while I reexamined my intentions to skip more gym sessions and shovel fatty foods down my throat with every opportunity.

~

Images of the Australian landscape flash outside the windows as the train gently glides on the tracks. Occasionally the elevated track allows one to peep into the private lifestyles of houses with low fences. A few gardens here and there were showing signs of heavy watering even during Stage 2 water restrictions (with fucking hydrangeas in the front lawn), whilst other more law-abiding citizens have left their garden to its demise as the grass browns under the intense dry heat. Occasionally a child or two came into view, but never long enough to make out what they were doing in their back yard as the train whizzed past the house before you could take a second look.

Bushland lining both sides of the train tracks have not been spared by the drought either. The only few remaining plants that looked healthy were the low lying eucalypts, salt bushes and prickly pears. Most of the grass had died off to reveal the parched soil underneath, with pockets of greenery poking out where the soil was more forgiving.

At one of the stations we came within full view of a eucalyptus tree that had been partially burnt, revealing burned pendulous fruiting bodies that mimicked the shape of a pair of very shriveled black testicles. Even nature has a sense of humour during the toughest of times.

~

Positioned strategically at the exit, a man clad in Connex uniform beckons our arrival to the Sandringham station. Everyone including myself and the boyfriend is taken aback for a few split seconds upon the sight of this officer as we alight from the train and head towards the exit, fearing he might be one of many train inspectors who haunt the train lines in search of fare evaders. The whole train of passengers seems to have evaded this time.

With a gentle gesture he asks us to pass through the gates, and with no pen and ticket book in sight we are all shaken but mildly relieved as we make our way to freedom and the beach that lay in the horizon.

~

Fucking hot sand, fucking cold waters. Your feet boil as you sink them into the soft sand of the beach as you make your way towards the icy cold water that is part of Port Phillip Bay. Everywhere couples and families have set up their towels and bags on the sand and the crowd seems to be divided between those who are shivering in the water and those who are baking under the sun. This beach is full of extremes.

The succulents that grow on the sand dunes look pale and uninteresting. Most of the bushes look weather worn and sun scorched, with few species able to survive the high salt content and piercing sun's rays on the beach. Possibly the only plant that seems to be doing well here are those ugly banksias that twists into deformed shapes under the influence of the harsh sea breezes. Just looking at the foliage makes you feel thirsty and dry.

Nobody is wearing speedos although it is an Aussie invention. A few girls have squeezed their fat bodies into skimpy bikinis but the men being more conservative than the women have boardies or really short boxer pants. The lack of defined male bodies gives me slight relief from the insecurity that clouds my mind with regards to my built. Nobody is beautiful, and for once I don't mind fitting in with the crowd.

Carefully treading into the water I notice how white the boyfriend is, and the stark contrast with my brown skin which has become burnt under constant exposure to the hot summer sun. Cold water passes through my pants and sends shivers up my spine as I try to acclimatise to the sub zero temperatures. This is too hard.

The boyfriend beckons me towards him as we climb across a sand bar. The sudden feeling of loneliness creeps into my head as I dive into the icy cold water, but that feeling is soon extinguished by the relentless shivering I experience as I emerge from the cold salt water.

Bliss.