If you have ever seen one of those nature documentaries where hundreds of seals or walruses end up crammed onto a beach somewhere, you will be able to form a mental image of George’s Bay in summertime. Only substitute seals for hungover 22 year olds.
Actually, seals is fine, that’s a pretty accurate analogy. This is the lazy option of beaches, the one where you wake up some time in the afternoon after a long days night in Paceville and stumble down to the nearest sandy area you can find. Unfortunately, many, many other people have had exactly the same idea, which is why you are lying down on the only patch of sand large enough to fit your beach towel. Meanwhile that family with the exuberant kids who keep kicking sand in your head and shrieking is doing nothing for your headache. To make matters worse, you think you’ve spotted that girl/boy
you were with last night in Hugo’s and she/he is looking considerably less attractive than that blurry mental image you had in your head.
Basically it’s the hungover version of the same crowd that weaves around Paceville, (plus a load of families with kids), laid out on a convenient sandy beach and optimistically hoping that the sun’s vitamin D boost will somehow compensate for the tray of tequilas they poured down their necks last night.
It won’t.
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