27 January 2003 -
12:58 p.m.
As we walked past the inn with the painting of a parrot on it, the smell of the sea washed up over us.
The warm air surrounded us with saltiness and the aroma of steaks from the pub down the street.
It was 3:00 in the afternoon and the intensity of the mid-day heat was beginning to mellow a little. The gulls started flying and calling again.
Shadows began reappearing around us as some of the sunglasses began to vanish. People started emerging from their air-conditioned, retail havens.
We walked back toward the main street, past some small shops with clothes, sandals and wind-chimes. We could just see the kite shop up ahead with it's display of wind-socks and spinning wheels flapping like tropical birds.
Tank-tops and titties ran past us up and down the street as the August heat relaxed just slightly, and we turned to each other and simultaneously said the same two words, "ice cream!"
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