Every time I look at this photo I think about how HOT I was while in Spain. I had big plans of touring around, going to a local festival, shopping the markets, visiting a vineyard and riding a donkey...but the only thing we could bare the heat to do was walk from the car to the beach. With daily temperatures of 35 degrees it was hard to find the energy to hike up a mountain or go for a run on the beach. We already risked burnt feet running across the hot sands to get to the water.
I am usually not such a beach bum; I grow restless way too quickly. There are only so many magazines I can read and so much people watching I can do (which to be honest is one of my favourite pass times). But this time around was different; there was no where else I wanted to be, than beside the beautiful blue waters of the Mediterranean basking in the (abnormally) extreme heat of the September sun, sipping from my juice box wine (that's right the sell wine in convenient little juice boxes, amazing).
On one adventurous day my husband and I decided to take out two kayaks for a little tour in 'The Med' I reluctantly agreed seeing as I have a fear of water, especially large opened water. But hey how often do you get to kayak in the Mediterranean right? So off we paddled across the bay, along the shore line and out in to open water. We had a lovely 3 hours paddling around, exploring little beaches, ones that can only be reached by water, picking seashells and taking pictures of the amazing things we would see. I often had to pinch myself to say ‘Hello! You are in Spain right now. Take it all in.’
After we decided we had done enough exploring and figured we should probably use the last hour of our rental time to head back. We left our little hidden beach cove and headed back into open water where we discovered that the wind had picked up, as did the waves. So here we are, heading back to the rental shop paddling and rolling through 6 foot waves. Did I mention I have a fear of water?! I don’t think I have worked that hard in all my life, paddling as hard as my little arms would paddle. Stopping every once in a while to catch my breath and trying my hardest not to cry my eyes out. My husband paddling beside me; encouraging me to keep going and to keep my kayak straight so I didn’t end up tipping into the water and have even more of a panic attack. We finally made it back to dry land which I had never been so happy to see. I don’t think I said one word the whole way back other then letting out little whimpers and a few sobs here and there whenever I felt it was safe to cry. In hindsight I am glad we did it. Although there was a good half hour of shear terror for me, it was worth it for the 3 and half hours of bliss we shared exploring waters and beaches together.
Looking back there was really no other way I would have wanted to spend my time in Spain then baking in the sun, floating in the salty sea and enjoying some vino, even if it was from a box.
