15th of November
On a long stretched white beach, where the waves happily rolls in over playing sun guests without causing disturbance to the resting baskers desperately working on the hungover from last night, amongst the palm trees poking the sun and the playing with the butterflies, there lays a few hotels.
Each year are these hotels torn down and the entire beach deserted for the off season. They are called huts for a reason because more then a luxurious tent with walls is it hard to call it. Well, a lot of imagination might do it, but still. They wall off the beach from the slightly more hectical tourist street running along the waterfront.
On two meter unsteadily looking poles are the huts constructed. On that altitude is every rhythm of romance unfortunately shared with everyone in the complex. They are surprisingly comfortable thou, and costs but a fraction of the price of a proper hotel which makes it ideal for a longer stay.
I would like to call them Coco sheds when I think about it...
Inga kommentarer:
Skicka en kommentar