I did it. Anthony Quinn Beach! Strange that I thought it was just my little secret. The bay was crowded, burbling Italian and German all around me on my hired sunbed. Yes, I know. I do not have the patience or the complexion to lie in the sun, but I’m a tourist now – and I chose one in the shade. Swim, lunch, book, swim, coffee. The water was glorious, lap after lap, out near the buoy. While I was there at least a dozen tourist boats came into the bay, including a yellow submarine !! all laden with visitors just wanting a little taste of this, jumping into the sea and holding onto foam noodles.
The water is crystal clear, even when quite deep. I love the little fish moseying around the rocks below. My favourites are the blue fusiliers, squadrons of them, like tiny shimmering darts, creating patterns in their realm. Is there a watery word for murmuration? Same effect. Were I a whale they could be my krill. One big inhale and that would be lunch.
Back home for a quick siesta and to rinse off the salt, and I’m back in the water at Mandómata. Much simpler. No Mama, I wasn’t in the all together. I had swim shoes, cap and goggles on. This was by far my favourite swim. Ever. Fish and seasonal greens for dinner – and maybe back to the naturist beach tomorrow…
