The otherside of the Atlantic Ocean

Covered in sunscreen (SPF 30) and armed with my book and a sheet to layout, I headed to the beach.

The sky looked a bit threatening that morning … teetering between sun and clouds and sunny with clouds, so I wasn’t sure if a beach day was even possible. But, I had to make it to the Atlantic Ocean.

I grew up with the Atlantic Ocean. Every summer my family would venture the three hour trip and spend time at the beach. I would stare out over the horizon and wonder what was on the other side.

One day, I will be on the other side of the ocean.

That day happened in May 2010 … in Lagos, Portugal.

I stepped onto the beach and was immediately struck by its beauty. The ocean in Lagos is so much prettier than the mucky Mid-Atlantic Ocean where I used to swim. It is green and blue and bright and gorgeous and lined with the most magnificent cliffs I have ever seen.

I threw my stuff on the sand, tossed my dress to the ground and walked into the water.

Holy hell, it’s cold.

I had to swim.

I walked further into the water, lungs hurting, goosebumps emerging.

Come on, D.

Then, I went for it.

Balls to the walls, man.

I dipped under.

Coldcoldcoldcoldcold.

And then, it wasn’t so bad. And then, I was swimming! Past the cliffs, turning around and looking back at the shore.

So, that’s what the other side of the Atlantic Ocean looks like.

Hangover cured.