We were next to a sort of 'sea wall' for the lake
where Hamish came fishing. Next to the lake wall,
there was a bay and a small fishing village.
On the other side of our campment, the beach
extended itself for a while before being blocked
by a steep hill.
The next morning we decided to walk and explore
the beach for a while. We came across the
'campground beach'.
Everyone there stayed within a confined
section, all squeezed together. A rope was used
to delimit the area, and no one dared to setup
their beach towel outside these lines.
A barbecue was setup a couple feet in the lake,
a kite held captive by it. It's owner staring
at us silently.
Other people were looking at us making strange faces.
Some recognized the 2 hippy who showed up a few
day prior but no one said a word.
We got to the end of the beach where a sharp cliff
mostly made of clay blocked our way. The horny mind
of a 17 years old boy can easily be turned on.
For some reason, I wanted to pleasure myself
with this clay.
I told Olivier that I wanted to cotinue alone and he
agreed quite happily. It's only a few years later
that we realised that we both went masturbating
on our own. He, inspired by the beauty of the lake,
I, excited by the ammount of clay I could play with.
I collected a bit of clay, maybe to use it as sun
screen, or maybe to later make a bowl and
fire it with a Raku technique. It wasn't sexual
anymore.
We walked back together to our camping spot, going
trough the campground beach once more. Their faces
seemed even more distorted this time.
Arriving at our spot, I made a sand sculpture of a face
and made a fire in his mouth. As the fire was
burning, the dry sand slid down the hole,
covering any ashes. In the morning, you
could barely see where the fire was. I though
that might come as a useful technique one day.
We slept right on the beach. It was cold but the
sand was comfortable. I had a blanket, and lend my
poncho to Olivier.
