My childhood beach trips involved dozens of loud relatives, an old minivan with ripped leather seats, soggy pork rolls, homemade sticky rice, cold roast duck, an ugly second-hand op-shop swimsuit, a communal wet towel, more freckles, dirty public toilets, and sand everywhere... Needless to say, those were not fond memories, and I disliked the beach because it was chaotic and messy.
As I grew up, I held a grudge and sulked in the car while my friends made pit stops at different beach spots during our road trips. I wasn’t completely against the whole beach idea, since I enjoyed walking along the seashore at night when it was empty, clean, and peaceful, with only the sound of the ocean waves crashing.
Now, my children love the beach, so how could I possibly hate something that makes my family so incredibly happy?