The beach at Glenelg was surprisingly busy for a school night, but the unusual thirty degree April warmth brought people out for a last bathe in the ocean, or a last bathe (they say bake here) in the sun. Couples strolling across the square, cops cruising the prom, kids on skateboards, a semi-naked backpacker recharging where only electric cars should- all signs of seasonal normality.
I’ve never wintered here so I don’t know what to expect. Will I need a coat? Scarf? Boots? After weeks of thirty plus and a freak spell of forty plus, even I feel cold in the early twenties. But tonight it’s still summer, and shorts and thongs (flip-flops) is the answer.
We dined early at the Stamford Hotel by an open window in the soothing breeze, the sun setting slowly over the Gulf. Afterwards a walk in the suddenly thickening dark, past groups picnicking or strumming or chilling on the green, to dip our toes for one last time. The earlier winds had blown a harvest of seaweed; you could smell the ocean from afar. The usually tranquil and inviting waters beckoned more menacingly as the foam disappeared into black holes of submerged seaweed. The wind picked up, turning cool and announcing the first drops of rain. And the end of summer.