march 4. golden days, episode 1 – damp hair and love. 5:10pm – 10:30am.
I’m in a tiny cabin and the light is orange. The walls are panneled with cheap wood and thin mattresses are stacked on every available surface. Five people share this space – piled on the beds, wrapped in bathers and love.
Nothing feels real outside of this. Minutes slip away and we murmur ‘we should go’ but we fade back into a soft sleepy mindset.
We wander down to the beach with one pair of thongs between us, switching between our feet. The gravel road is hot and our heels are cracked by the time we reach the jetty. The boys hop on the ferry and we slide into water and swallow salt. Every passing moment is sun-soaked and so perfect I want to freeze it forever (but I forgot my camera).
We walk back home in bather bottoms and t-shirts. The sun casts long golden fingers across the earth and a car pulls up beside us, a passing stranger offering us a quick lift. We pile in with thanks and laughter.
Home and we’re curled up in Giada’s room. The light passes and fades and the room turns golden and then grey. The faint glow of screens illuminates our faces and we text friends that are far away, passing whispered murmurs and giggles to each other.
We’re called downstairs and dinner is spread on the huge table outside. Crickets call and glasses clink. We intermingle, generation gaps dissapear, and I am wrapped in community, family, friends and love.
It’s still sticky warm. We bid goodbye and slip outside, wandering back to the water we’ve been in and out of all day. We sit and talk on the jetty, legs folded and jumpers discarded. The ocean beckons and we burst back into deep. I am so in love with these girls, grabbing my hands and pulling me into the sea at 11pm.
It’s past midnight and we’re home, sharing a shower and awkwardly washing our hair. Wrapped in towels we slip beneath white sheets. Giada drafts a long text on her ipad and Rani curls up between us. Absentmindedly playing with her hair, I close my eyes.
Watch the video here.