Just got back from Panama City — the one in Florida, not the cool one in Panama. The beaches were absolutely swarming with sweaty, rapidly sun-burning 4th of July vacation masses. Enjoying the sun and the sand, I have to presume, although how they could possibly enjoy either escapes me. Seriously, sand is the worst. It’s just small rocks. Rocks small enough to get into various cracks and crevices and folds of skin and no matter how much water you run over them your flip-flops are going to carry way too much of it back to your car… but even one grain of sand grinding under your heel is more than enough.
Needless to say, never got the appeal of beaches. Rather do a mountain than a beach — and I hate mountains (don’t ask, they know what they did.)