An Almost Private Beach

I was going to take the wean and Lola to the East Pier again but then on a whim I drove up onto Vico Road and parked above the beach, in the midst of all those multi-million Euro views: properties so nestled into their panoramic niches high on the cliff that they won't need to be too concerned if the sea levels should rise a couple of hundred feet.

Lola went absolutely wild, an ecstasy of excited barking, wanting us to throw balls which we didn't have. Wean got his clothes wet of course, but it was a good outing, worth descending and ascending all those steep steps. He was slightly shocked to see a man's naked hairy arse. I guess the beach is secluded enough to seem like a good spot for a bit of naturist sun bathing. Very few people apart from that: a gay couple, another pale middleaged man in a pink thong lying on his back, a man with his son or grandson sitting eating lunch among the rocks, a pretty girl in a black bikini basking in the windless sun that reached the top of the steps, inside the graffitied concrete shelter. A handful of wholly discrete worlds, including ours for the half hour or so we spent there.