The beach

The beach here stretches for miles and miles, I can walk the few kilometers from our house to downtown Mt. Maunganui all along the ocean. At that end the beach terminates at the feet of Maoau (the mount of Mt. Maunganui). Curving back even further in the other direction it leads to the more rugged Papamoa, where we first stayed. Underfoot the sand feels like sugar, and sometimes like sifted flour, it's off-white and with few pebbles. The width of the beach does the length justice. When the tide is out the beach becomes a sandy playground for children, couples, volleyball teams, dogs and joggers. The tide must come in, when we go for walks I can see the moist traces of a high tide, but I've yet to catch it in the act. It flows in secret.

If you walk in shoes they will immediately fill up with sand, it's so deep. Close to the water line the sand is firm and smooth, you can walk quickly here, but up by the dunes it's like walking through a field of pillows. In general barefeet are the way to go, and if you shuffle, just so, the sand squeaks.

In the water breaking waves kick up the fine and fluffy sand, it swirls around under the surface in chaotic silence. It's the sort of sand that fills the lining of your bathing suit in no time, but takes years of rinsing to get back out. Maybe each grain is shaped like a light bulb. The best way to fill your bathing suit is by boogie boarding. This way each tumultuous crash and swirl of sand is concentrated on your lower half, for maximum exposure to the particulate mixture.

Here the waves break in threes, so that the regular breathing in and out of the ocean is replaced with a steady roar. Waves topple over themselves and others as they clamber to the shore, and then stumble in excitement as they slide back into the sea. If you're in a bad mood, or a sad mood, just go to the beach. Bury your feet in the warm sand, scoot out an indentation for you bum and admire the clouds and sky, the tireless waves and the selfish seagulls.