On The Beach 1970.

We sat on the beach facing the Mediterranean, behind us the base camp a few miles from Tangiers. Miriam was wearing a red bikini that matched her red hair and sunglasses, I was wearing jeans and a t shirt and small sunglasses. Both of us were smoking cigarettes, gazing at the calm waters. I have dreamed of this, Miriam said, dreamed of this in dreams since I was a little girl. She looked at me and smiled. When I told my parents about coming this way, Miriam said, they didn’t think it safe, thought I was being reckless. She continued her talk as two Arabs crossed along the beach with two camels ahead of us. I wonder if they’ll let me have a photo taken with their camels, Miriam said, pointing at the men. I’ll ask, I said and made my way across the beach towards them. When they saw me they stopped and stood gazing at me. Can my girlfriend have her photo taken with the camels? I asked. They looked at me in silence. I pointed to the camels and towards Miriam on the beach and mimicked taking a photo. One nodded at me and smiled and said something to the other one. They walked with me and their camels towards Miriam who stood up and waved. The Arabs brought their camels near Miriam and insisted they be in the photograph too. So I took the photograph, and the smiling Arabs walked off with their camels, chatting between themselves. I would have preferred it without them, Miriam said, but at least I have a photo with camels. And so we sat again and enjoyed the afternoon sunshine, smoking and enjoying the rest of the day that would end it seemed quite soon. 

Reviews

[Joss Jeffrey]

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