Just an old photograph, but I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be today. I’d love to walk along that beach, sand between my toes, just as the sun was setting again.
I signed on this morning. First time in my life. The JobCentre was a much nicer place than I’d expected – open plan, light, airy, very clean, quiet. The woman that saw to me was very helpful and professional; guiding me through the mass of paperwork I needed to sign; ensuring that I was aware of the contract I was making with them. ‘Are you actively looking for work?’ ‘Have you a CV?’ ‘You realise that you need to keep a record of your job applications and bring this along with you every fortnight.’ Fair enough. It’s no hardship to do these things and they aren’t asking for anything unreasonable.
Meanwhile only a few hours away the sea laps at the white sand of a palm strewn beach and the sun beats down on an azure blue sea.
Back in my car, parked in the grey, drizzled, side road, I look at the form detailing my attendance arrangements -
I love the feel of the warm water around my feet as I walk along the edge of the gently breaking waves. Small fish dart amongst the coral beneath the crystal clear water – red, blue, orange, yellow. A local man in a snorkel emerges from the sea with a harpoon. Large colourful, silver- red, fish hang from a rope belt tied around his waist. He smiles and asks if I want to buy some fish. Of course I do and pick two. Red Snapper. ‘Just grill them in a pan with some butter and garlic man. There’s no better taste to be had on the island.’
He was right, the fish tasted good. Fresh and firm and flavoured with the garlic and butter.
I wonder what fish he caught today?
Every two weeks.