“It’s like you live on holidays,” is all I can manage after flopping onto the sand like a big wet dog on a blanket. I can taste the salt as the ocean seeps from my hair and onto my lips.
I’m on the Gold Coast for a video shoot with one of my sponsors – AlphaFit.
It’s winter, so instead of nipping like a yappy little terrier, the sun provides a warm tickle complimented by the gentle breeze drifting off the waves. It’s crisp enough to make you realise summer is three months away, but warm enough to warrant the removal of my shirt.
I glance at my lily white legs. I will start to spend at least 20 minutes in the sun a day I tell myself. Being on holidays makes you realise all the shit you ignore in the real world. Vanity is a sin.
Kim, my chauffeur / tour guide / chef / event organiser / training partner / photographer for the weekend just laughs.
I roll onto my back, arching it like a cat napping in the sun. Life is fucking rad. I could totally live on holidays too.
The pace of life on the Gold Coast is so different to Sydney. The wall of high rise hotels fringing the beach are juxtaposed by the slew of locals soaking in the sun on the sand, like human sausages slowly barbecuing in their own juices. Sexy and putrid all at the same time. Kind of like Surfers Paradise itself.
Kim and I train, eat and lay around on the beach all day. This is technically work for Kim as he manages the AlphaFit athletes and his task for the weekend is to keep me amused. A tough gig actually, as I have the attention span of a toddler on its first trip to the zoo.
But the endless summer the Gold Coast seems to play on loop, when shorts and a singlet are appropriate year round attire and the local ladies look like they could have just walked off a bikini model pageant, seems to lull me into a state of clam.
Or maybe there’s so much to look at my scattergun brain is being stimulated enough to keep me at bay…
We spend the late afternoon cruising down the coast, following the setting sun to a lookout over Rainbow Bay.
iPhones in hand, we join a group of trendy looking surfers and their glamour model girlfriends and frantically snap shot after shot of the blood-red sun as it’s consumed like a great pink grapefruit by the mountains to the west. The sea is ignited in a blaze of vivid red and orange and the trees glow gold as if God himself has applied some sort of sepia filter to the world. It’s stunning. We stare at it in silence transfixed.
Kim is sitting on a railing and after some time he asks me to a picture of him looking out over the sea of colour.
It’s cliche, but I too get up and pose. I’m only here for a couple of nights, I’m a tourist, so that’s ok I tell myself.
Kim however lives here. I smile to myself. Living on holiday.
I’m incredibly jealous.