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Writer's pictureEllen Orrock

A day at the beach

The theme this week is based on how we carry our lives with us even when we break out of our routine. So a day at the beach can be respite, an escape or a treat.


It can, of course be a part of someone's routine too, a dog walker, a pedestrian's commute or even a resident just going about their business. Portobello beach has its fair share of locals but there are still plenty of visitors to observe and imagine their lives away from the sand and esplanade.


Five minute task

A group is clustered together. One man holds a stick off the beach. It is for his friend, a blind man, but the white ball on its end that skims smoothly over tarmac doesn't work so well on wet sand. He has his back to the sea, his eyes are open, while his companions face the waves.


Are their eyes shut? Who hears the churning surf better?

It is blowy, warm in the sun but still nippy. There is a lot of chatter with cyclists, dogs of all shapes and sizes, families and a few groups.


It is just after the Jubilee bank holiday weekend and there is a holiday feel to the esplanade, perhaps with a touch of hangover from a four day weekend.

Main task

Janine and Jamie's Farewell - The party was over. It had been a blistering weekend of sunshine and celebrating. The end of term, the end of the school year, the end of university.


Janine had met Jamie in the first week of her second year. She was a medic and had moved in with friends from halls; he was a fresher and up for a good time.


She couldn't remember what he was studying then, as it had changed twice in those early months of uni. But now he was a botanist and she a baby doctor. They had chatted about how to mark graduation back in February and Jamie's solution was to put a hula hoop on her finger and ask her to marry him.


She had laughed. But here they were, husband and wife and at Porty beach to have one last barbecue with their friends. Well, Jamie's friends really.

Janine had graduated early in May and most of her friends had gone home for the summer. So, just two women in trousers and cardigans stood on the damp sand, while seven men hovered in shorts and puffa jackets, shoulders raised and hands in pockets against the easterly wind.


Jamie knelt over a smoky barbecue, trying not to burn the sausages and Janine worried about listeria.


Swimming had not gone well, it was too cold for them. But throwing a tennis ball around had been fine, at least until they attracted the attention of a golden retriever and the sausages were sacrificed at the altar of hungry dogs.


Janine's arms were crossed firmly across her body. She was cold, tired and ready to go. Not just to leave the beach, but Edinburgh. She was ready to move on. She looked at Jamie, having a shoving match with his friends.


Was he ready?


I watched this group for a good twenty minutes and, I'm afraid, made many judgements, ahem, I mean observations. They were definitely in their early twenties and were behaving in that clinging to childhood, full of confidence, not a care, not jaded, not self aware kind of way.


The gender divide was striking; the young men were having a great time, playing and performing for the young women who were moody and outwardly unimpressed.


They did clock me watching them and I wondered what they thought, if they realised how their behaviour affected those around them. It was interesting.


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