Dalit Berkowitz

Yesterday this city girl took a (half?) day trip with her honey to another Manhattan: the South Bay’s Manhattan Beach.

For the first time in my life, I brought gear. I use that term loosely– basically a couple of lightweight beach umbrellas we picked up en route from Rite Aid, portable camping type chairs and a tatami mat. We chose a very empty spot which was great (although a half mile from bathrooms), but aside from that it was loverly.

I’ve lived in Southern California for over 10 years, but this is one of the few times I’ve gone to the beach. Part of it I’m sure has to do with growing up with a dermatologist mom: from as early as I can remember the sun was deemed equivalent to, well, hell.

But I was a good girl and sunblocked securely. And wore sunglasses. And a hat. And covered my dangling/exposed parts with a towel and scarf.

Note to self for next time: actual beach chairs to feel closer to the ground and improved restroom/ hot-sand awareness to avoid foot scalding. Sigh.

Gee, it’s hard work to relax.