Cottesloe Beach

Après une dernière baignade, je repars avec le petit irlandais et Coralie. Le trajet est sympa et nous rions des dates Tinder et autres aléas des histoires amoureuses.

Cottesloe Beach, Photo by Dylan Alcock on Unsplash

Get up next morning at 12:00.

I don’t feel like doing nothing with my day, so I decided to explore a new beach.

On my way, by train, to Cottesloe Beach. At the exit of the train / RER, an Irish man asks me the road to the beach. We go there together, talking.

He reassures me on my English which is rather correct. We settle down next to each other, each one going in and out of the water at his own pace, sometimes chatting, and then we go back to our books.

Mon petit abri à Cottesloe Beach

I get a text message from the French girl, Coralie, who tells me that she’s on the same beach, with a Tinder date and that… She needs help… I join her, I talk a little with her, and we decide to go back together.

After a last swim, I leave with the little Irish boy and Coralie. The trip is nice and we laugh about Tinder dates and other love stories.

Arrived at the hostel, without the Irish boy who returned to his, we plan with the Italians an excursion to Rottnest island the next day.

Meeting at 7:30 am in the lobby, get up at 7 am. So there is no question of a night out! Oops…

Confessions, an exalted Dutch woman, chain laughs and a times up with a Scottish guy as a teammate, with an accent to be cut with a knife, it’s already one o’clock when I finally go to bed, the night is going to be short, too bad, we only have one life.

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