I love the beach, umm sort of.

Well, as I left for work on this magnificent morning, I made one last pass over my inventory.
Flippers…check, snorkel…check, funky beach towel…check, camera…check, boogie board…check, bucket and spade (for sandcastle construction)…check. Oh and sunscreen…check. I was set for the day. On the Agenda was two jobs. One just in the next town, the other….at the beach!


So after I checked in at work, collected my parts and got myself sorted, I headed off to my first job. Not much I could do for this particular printer. Sad state it was in. But the staff at this particular workplace had found a new way to make one of those Chinese style concertina fans. Very impressive: But no good for the printer. Next, I was off to my long awaited coastal destination. South Gippsland is very beautiful when you take the time to soak in the surroundings. Even for a brief moment, it is good to stop and just take a deep breath as you look around yourself at nature’s beauty.

Rolling hills and lots of our bovine friends passed me by, before I finally arrived at that rare place of visitation: The beach!!! Wow, but wait: As I approached the turnoff something appeared all wrong. Maybe it was the way it was phrased, or the colour of the text in which the words NO BEACH ACCESS appeared. ‘what the f$@%k???????’ Access denied!!!!! What could this mean? Surely they haven’t dragged me all the way down here just to work? What about my flippers and boogie board? Denied??? Unfortunately Barry Beach appears to be a secure port for ESSO Australia. Not a grain of sand to be seen anywhere. ‘Bastards!!’ I thought… Oh well, no sandcastles for this little black duck! And so admitting defeat, I arrived at the ESSO marine terminal a little perplexed, but as usual, ready for action.

The job itself was straightforward enough, but the crap you have to go through just to place a foot inside the place seems a little overkill. 20 minutes of induction later, I donned my sexy high visibility vest, wraparound safety glasses and hard hat.

Fifteen steps later, with the complete visual attributes of a total Gordon, I stepped into the administration building, removed all of the crap that I had spent the last 20 minutes earning the right to wear and got started on completing my critical mission. Now I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that sometimes I feel like Tom Cruise in ‘mission impossible’, but this time it actually worked to plan. The technogurus had correctly identified the fault (this doesn’t happen as often as you might think) and sent the correct part (again, not as often as you might think) to remedy the situation. Mission complete!

On the way home, with a bitter taste of disappointment, I couldn’t help but wonder what the beach might have been like beyond the security fences and surveillance cameras. I wondered if I had indeed made the right decision to stop short of making a run for the water with my bucket and spade in hand…

And so as I ventured on down that seldom travelled road (Barry road), I came to a most powerful and undeniable conclusion…. Barry Beach sucks.

And as I headed toward the majestic wind turbines of Toora, I couldn't help but think that perhaps it wasn't such a great day for the beach afterall.

This picture was generously edited by my workmate Gayle. Thanks Gayle, You're Ace! ;)