London is in that place where it's just grey and damp and dull.
Where it's dark when I get up in the morning, and when I travel to work; and dark before I leave my office in the evening.
So the beach is a fantasy of summery bliss, of warming sunshine and cooling breezes, of the smell of salt water and the feel of hot sand under your feet.
It would obviously also help if there was a cute lovely like this chap thrown into the equation, too. But you can't have everything, now can you?
2 comments:
Australian, goes under various names, been around for ages: but I don't doubt you know that! I prefer the numerous rather less prissy Aussies to be found on the web, but each to his own. Wouldn't it be good to be there for their springtime? November can be so grey and miserable here...
With his milky-white complexion, I think he'd need to slap on plenty of factor 50 to stay on the beach long.
I'd certainly volunteer to apply it for him though ;-)
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