The children don't let us sleep in too long. They bounce out of bed infused with holiday energy. They don't even care where they are. They just have a ball being together.
After breakfast, fathers take their children to the beach, and the women go shopping.
Lunchtime is an adhoc affair, with a few tears. Then the obligatory afternoon siesta. For young and old.
In the afternoon Pete, Sabina and I wander down a bush path to the local playground. Sabina only has eyes for the sand, and as soon as she's allowed she becomes a yellow haired, bronzed body in a pink swimsuit, dancing and running along the sand. Running, running, running. Her hair swept back by the wind. Running along the long bar of sand thanks to the low tide.
Pete and I run after her, yelling that the icecreamery is the opposite way. She stops lightly, gazes at us, a huge smile breaking across her face. Then she giggles and runs off again along the bar of sand.
The running is followed by a similarly communicative episode of swimming.
Eventually we manage to get her changed, and walking in hand. She loves the rainbow ice cream.
Dingo's lesson with Ron
8 years ago
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