Every summer, my family would pile into two cars at three o’clock in the morning and set off to Polzeath, Cornwall, arriving just as the sun was coming up over the water. Before even checking in to our holiday apartment, we would change into our wetsuits in the car park off the beach and run straight for the sea. If you’ve ever swum in the English Channel – you know how brave this is, even in a wetsuit.
We would surf until our hands turned blue and then struggle up the beach, making lines in the sand where our boards dragged behind us, to the little café where we would buy bacon sandwiches and hot chocolates which scalded our tongues. Other people went to the Caribbean or Malta for their holidays, but sitting on the beach, warming our hands on polystyrene cups until they were pink again, this was perfect for us.
Molly Slight lives in London and works as a Publishing Assistant for Scribe. She escapes to the sea whenever she can.