The bright morning sunshine teased me through the curtains and I persuaded Nic to abandon a morning shower in lieu of a swim in Noosa on the appropriately named Sunshine Coast. Of course by 9.30am, when we made it to the fate-temptingly named Sunshine Beach, the sun tormented us by disappearing. Undaunted, we headed into the deep blue South Pacific ocean, well actually the shallow blue but with very big waves.
Responsible swimmers that we are, we did our best to stay between the red and yellow flags and tried not to think about the lifeguards laughing hysterically at our attempts to 'swim' in the surf. Actually, we just frolicked in the waves for a while. No we didn't. We got beaten up, thrown around and winded by the sheer force of those magnificent rollers. And we loved every minute of it. Definitely, the most enjoyable workout either of us has had in a while.
Did I mention it is winter here and the only other people to make any attempt to enter the water were four teenagers, and only very briefly? The water was so much warmer than I have ever felt it in Ireland. Finally, we dragged ourselves out and I tried to coach Nic on how to change out of a bathing suit on a public beach with numb fingers and still maintain some dignity. Not sure how successful we were. When we thought the morning couldn't get better we discovered that the surf club was still serving breakfast and we indulged in verry good poached eggs, bacon and pancakes. 
Thankfully, the joy of the swim and the breakfast outweighed the horror of discovering that everyone in surf club witnessed our morning 'dip'. No matter, with salty, sun-kissed skin, sand between my toes and rats-tailed hair, I was eight years old again and loving every minute of it. Good for the soul, just like the magnificent sunset we were treated to in Hervey Bay later on. 
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