Simple Pleasures

The other day my housemate and I were lazing about the flat, (shocking I know), waiting for our only form of routine or schedule to begin: Jeremy Kyle followed by Ricky Lake followed by Sally Jessy Raphael followed by Montel Williams, each programme punctuated with cups of tea and the occasional delirious outburst impersonating either the show’s eponymous host or one of the undesirable guests. Yes, it seems ITV2 daytime “sponsored by ITV Bingo” (Powered by Party Gaming don’t you know) has become a bit of an unwanted addiction for Chloe and I.
Anyway, whilst the tenth DNA test result of the day was revealed, we both noticed that it was rather hot. Pulling back the floral curtains to reveal beaming sunshine prompted a scene far too similar to one from the Hunchback of Notre Dame than I was comfortable with. It was at this point, whilst we both grimaced and squinted in the daylight that we realised how little time we had left to make the most of Bournemouth’s gorgeous beach.
We raced down to the seafront in record time and decided it was time that we both went for our first swim in the sea for 2008. Excluding a mini-surfing encounter in Polzeath a month earlier, neither Chloe nor I had been deeper than ankle-level in Bournemouth’s waters this year. Come to think of it, I hadn’t swam in the sea since the blissful summer heat of 2006; a time where almost everyday for a month the beach was mine and Sammy P’s alone for at least an hour each beautiful morning!
As we waded into the surprisingly warm waters a bout of girly giggles got the better of us, but nevertheless we ventured on. I maintain that even the grumpiest of sods would be reduced to childlike squeals if pressed into a good old-fashioned seaside paddle.
When we reached a point where the water was at shoulder height we stopped and bobbed, swam deeper then returned, splashed around in the waves and soaked up the atmosphere. The view of the promenade from the water is not one which is usually encountered and provided an interesting spot for people watching.
I can honestly say that nothing has brought me as much simple pleasure or contentment for a long time, than simply bobbing about in the sea, just being. The experience put me in a euphoric mood for the rest of the evening.
The following day was warm and pleasant, although not as picture-perfect as the day before, however we decided to re-enact our little excursion. Unfortunately, as is often the case, returning to a place that created such an important or enjoyable memory on one occasion, it was disappointing. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, but in almost forcibly trying to have as good a time as the previous day, we inevitably didn’t. My mother, a wise woman as all mothers are, has often pointed this unfortunate fact out to me before – that revising somewhere you really loved would never be as special upon a second visit.
So it is with great sadness that I resign myself to the inevitability of change, the fact that once I have left Bournemouth a day trip here would never quite be the same. Yet I am comforted by the simple fact that I have made the most of every second of my time spent here – even on the numerous days spent vegetating in front of mindless daytime TV, because each and every moment spent at uni over the past three years has forged me into the person that I am now and for that, Jeremy Kyle, I am grateful.