For those of you left wondering as to what happened last week, my wife and I decamped for our annual pilgrimage to Virginia Beach. The weather was not perfect as there was a low pressure system sitting off the Carolinas. This meant  that we had a somewhat stiff breeze and partly cloudy skies coupled with the cooler temperatures that were already in effect when we hit the road.

Nonetheless, we had a pretty good time doing as little as possible aside from scarfing pizza, sleeping and sitting out on the beach. The water was rough for a good part of the time but there were still some opportunities to go for a swim – or pretend to in my case since I have all the aquatic skills of a rock.

 

Whilst we were enjoying the sun – or the clouds – I had the opportunity to watch those pulchritudinous mermaids who are more commonly known as the distaff contingent of the Virginia Beach Lifesaving Service. Up at our end of the beach – also known as the quiet end – the lifeguards were being put through a daily training programme which consisted of such activities as swimming along the shore for 5 or 6 blocks, exiting the water and running back down the beach where they would rinse and repeat. The sight of red bikinis and pony-tails jogging by was more than enough to keep the blood circulating for a few more days, at least.

 

 

Judi seemed to enjoy herself – at least there were no repercussions from my paying close attention to the above mentioned mermaids – and we had ample opportunities for strolls along the boardwalk and wading in the surf. There was even a bit of reminiscing – which shows you just how old and decrepit I am – about Pat Boone’s cover of the 1931 hit – no, I am not that old! – Love Letters in the Sand . Judi even added her own contribution to the nostalgia.

Looking to the future, we decided to improve our accommodations for the forthcoming iterations of “Beach Week”. One of the things that recommends this place is a tiki bar that actually knows how to make a lime daiquiri. Back in the day, this was the most common – and quite often the only – version of this drink to be had. Sadly, the decline in traditional values has led us to the point where most bartenders have no clue as to how one concocts anything other than the strawberry version. Indeed, the only two places I know of here in the Old Dominion that can make a decent lime daiquiri is this place and the Aberdeen Barn in Charlottesville. But, I digress.

 

 

 

Starting in 2013, we will be staying at this place known as the Ocean Beach Club:

If you’re expecting me to resume my usual schedule of rants and book reviews, you’ll have to wait a bit longer. Although the review queue contains four books at the moment and there are a fair number of things like Windows 8, tablets, and the impending end of civilisation as we know it to rant about, I am off to the family estate tomorrow morning to spend 3 days on stuff like installing three-prong outlets in an 83 year-old house. Fun, fun, fun. I should be able to rant about something or other on Fri.

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