The smell of the restaurants faded and the new, refreshing aroma of sea salt in the air took over. The warmth of the sun on my skin and the constant breeze was a familiar feeling that I loved every time we came to the beach. I remember the first time we came to the beach. I was only nine years old. The white sand amazed me because it looked like a wavy blanket of snow, but it was deceiving because it was scorching hot. The water shone emerald green, she was happy. By that I mean the waves were weak enough to hold on as they rushed over me. There was no sense of fear of being out at sea like a shipwrecked sailor. Knowing all this I now knew exactly how to approach the beach. I wore my sandals for as long as I could and laid out the towel without hesitation. I would then jump into the water to cover myself in a moist protective layer before returning to my now slightly less warm towel. In the water it was a completely different world. While I tried to avoid the occasional passing jellyfish, it was an experience