Sometimes you can’t unsee what you saw.

Last weekend Jorge and I went to a beach.

There are tons of them within an hour of Elche. He bought a car two weeks ago and so he well (we) are now mobile! He got a little 2008 Peugeot for $4800. It has about 150 K miles on it. It’s not uncommon here to have many cars on the road over 10 years old with hardly any mileage on them. One of the teachers I ride with has a 30-year-old Mercedes with a stick shift and of course no AC. But it’s solid. Just drive with the windows down.

Anyway, a few days ago we went to Finistrat a smallish seaside town about an hour from here. It has a

U- shaped cove between a small mountain covered with trees and a smaller rocky hill opposite. It has clear blue water and when I first saw it four months ago it was quiet with no tourists.

 It does have some small high-rise apartments near the beach and several small seaside restaurants. But it does not have that full-blown over-built feel like many beach areas, and the beach being smaller with the scenery of the small hills around it made it more intimate.  So, I really liked it. Enough that my trigger finger rented an apartment for the whole month of September. I must have been in some escapist mood that day as I can’t afford that.

But today was the day to see if I still liked it as summer is here. And to see if I could find which building the apartment trigger finger rented.

So we arrived at 10 am and the soft tan sandy beach was half full. The waves were a little choppy but afforded a nice wave sound. Rows of blue umbrellas and chairs were lining the beachfront. Ok not too bad, so we set up our chairs and umbrella between a family of four, a group of elderly ladies, and several families and groups of various ages.  

In general, from what I could tell, it appeared to be more of a family beach or the elder’s beach. I say that because a nice apartment complex on the hill overlooking the beach was a “senior living” apartment complex. This would explain why I saw way more elders than expected. I was a geriatric nurse case manager by trade and it seems everywhere I go there they are. But that’s ok just because you have a walker or a cane doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get your feet in the sand too. But it is slow going maneuvering a walker in the sand, so I was on alert if anyone fell.

Anyway, I sat back to put my sunscreen on, and off to my right was another group of elders. A skinny bald man with a tattoo with the letter “L” sinking down the crack of his ass that was no longer readable. He was bent over setting up his lounger. Thanks for that view, I thought maybe he’s a retired plumber.

 Besides him a portly man was laying on his back with a thick forest of gray hair covering his chest obscured by his skin turning bright beet red from the sun. I almost got up to check and see it was a burn or a heart attack. Then two ladies with floppy hats wearing string bikinis were next to them setting up their chairs. They all looked to be at least 80. One with very dark leathery tanned loose skin hanging over her bikini bottom hiding the elastic band, and a map of varicose veins sprouting from under her knees. The other, just as thin, with a bright red bikini and sunglasses too big for her small, framed face. They didn’t care one bit about their teeny weeny bikinis barely covering their aging bodies. You go ladies! I thought just cause your up there doesn’t mean you can’t wear what you want.

Then the unthinkable.

They both pulled off their bikini tops. Suddenly, out fell two sets of very dark wrinkled water balloons for all the world to see. The balloons draped down their bellies and rolled down their sides when they laid flat. Damn, I hadn’t had my coffee yet and I wasn’t up for that sight..

Holy moly.

Mr. tattoo in the crack and the hairy forest never noticed. Kind of like my ex-husband.

I forgot. It’s Spain. Topless is the norm. No matter how old. I do hope the older ladies’ bikinis are half price since they only need the bottoms. Especially being retired on a fixed income.

I then noticed not one but many sets of boobs walking around. Now I’m no voyeur but this was a family beach and I kind of thought even though it’s the norm here it was more polite to lay topless not walk around bouncing and swinging all over the place.  I swear I read that somewhere.

I even saw families do this. I mean mom, dad, and grandpa all in the same group. And mom topless. In front of your teenage boy and your grandfather? Really? Come on…. Even some little girls. I mean like 4 and 5 wearing only bikini bottoms too. Is that to train them early to be topless on the beaches? I’m not so sure I cared for that early a training. But everyone was smiling and several headed to play beach volleyball. Please don’t. My sunglasses aren’t dark enough.

Poor Jorge, with each elder that swung by, I said watch it, that could be me in 20 years. “Heck if I live here long enough I might just whip them out too,” I told him. He looked at me horrified, got up, and went swimming.

Ok, well fine. I mean the men wear speedos, with their bellies hanging out all over and sometimes that can ruin your appetite too. But as one friend said at least it’s not a bottomless beach. Now that would make me cancel the apartment.

A bar guy walked by selling sangria. I’ll take one with a side of Botox! I yelled. He didn’t understand a word I said and kept walking. Maybe if I was topless, he would have understood my English.

Well, I admit after a little bit you don’t really notice all the boobs anymore. Just the occasional shocking ones. Which I won’t describe here. But overall you get the picture; young women are all perky, the middle age has some sag but the nipples still point in the right direction, and the ancient ones, well you know already. Anyway, boobs are boobs. Personally, I don’t want mine burned. That’s my excuse.

I mean what happens if you burn your nipples? Do they peel so bad they don’t stand up anymore? Change color? I don’t know, I’m not experimenting today.  Although Jorge said, “it’s your body honey let em out if you want.” Um, thanks for being progressive, but no thanks I said, I’ll wait till I’m 80 with em swinging between the hand grips on my walker and I can shock other Americans. He just frowned.  Don’t you want some prunes with your sangria? He pretended not to understand my English. Fine. No prune juice for you later I said.

Well, needless to say, I found the apartment finger rented. It was too far from the beach. The ad didn’t match the description.  So I’m canceling it. I think I’m fine with it. Besides, I think ide rather look around for a more deserted beach with a fresh fruit stand.

Anyway, don’t wear your glasses at the beach.

Schedule some Botox and wear your sunscreen.

Somewhere in Spain