Designer underpants

One thing which has been annoying me over the last week or so has been the designer underpants. You know how, in England at least, the boys will wear their trousers pulled right down as low as they can get them without them slipping round their knees? Well here, on the beach, they all wear these long swim shorts, but for some reason (probably a man thing), they wear their designer pants under the swim shorts, with the shorts pulled down just enough to show the waistband of the pants with the accompanying labels. There are many I don't recognise (but have been reliably informed are, in fact, European designer names), but I've also seen my fair share of Calvin Kleins (made popular, no doubt, back in the 80's in Back to the Future). I'm afraid my response to this is to mutter under my breath "Pull up your bloody trousers!", followed swiftly by "And GET OFF MY LAWN!", while waving my imaginary walking stick.

However, it's almost impossible to remain grumpy when there is so much surf and sand around. The sun has now got well into it's stride, to the point where, yesterday, we went quite late to the beach, and left only when the life guards decided they'd had enough for the day. We still have no idea what time we came back. The girls met and played with a sweet young French boy on the beach, who promised (along with his parents) that he'd be there this afternoon too, so they can play again.

Last night, as usual, we all came down to the reception to use the wifi (although it's better in the morning, because there's no one stealing my bandwidth), only to find the cheesiest band possible playing. As we walked past, they were offering us Frank & Nancy Sinatra's Something Stupid, and continued on with a fair few of the Boney M back catalog. Sadly, just as they started playing some Rock & Roll, Lizzy decided she was tired, so we went off to bed, hearing the strains of Parisienne Walkways as we settled down in bed. Maybe they weren't that cheesy after all!!

I've promised the girls that this evening, being our last at the beach, we'll dress warmly, and as it's just getting dark we'll head across to the beach and do a little star gazing. Maybe we'll see a shooting star.