We finally arrived in my city. It had changed, for the better. Now, there was a high school, and they had turned the old sugar cane factory into a tourism site. We were at my house and as I got out of the car, I saw the look on my dad’s face. He cried. Mum wasn’t there. I paid and thanked the driver. I woke the boys up and got them out of the cab and they went through the gate. They found a football; I rolled my eyes. I was tired but there was no time to rest as I hurried to go to the beach.
I left the boys with dad who also took care of my luggage and I went to the beach. As I walked toward the beach, I felt the sun on my skin and the white tuff and the distorted gravels underneath my bare feet. The beach was two minutes away, so I enjoyed the closeness of nature under my feet. I picked up seven gravels to play this game called pichine. My mum taught me and I was going to challenge her on my return.
I saw a lady selling pistachios and coconut sorbet and I wanted to buy some when I got back. I walked past the swimming school and I remembered my kayak lessons when I was 11. Not a great experience. I fell in the sea as I lost control of the kayak and my teacher shouted at me: ‘Get back in the kayak or swim to the shore!’ I was petrified and chose the latter. I finally arrived on the beach. I put my towel on the sand and I sat down in front of the open ocean. The view was fantastic, but it was time for me to go swimming. As I entered the deep green sea, the wind blew past me. It gave me a little chill. I stood still for a couple of seconds as the waves brought the water up to my knees. It was cold, so I dived in to not feel the temperature. La plage du souffleur: ‘How I missed you!’