Driving to the beach, driving to the beach… that’s the driving to the beach song! I get so excited about driving to the beach, I can’t help bursting into song, and who can blame me? It’s not even about being at the beach – that’s nice and all, but it’s nothing compared to driving to the beach. Winding roads, panoramic views of sparkling sea, the thrill of hurtling along the edge of a coastal cliff, cute scruffy dogs sticking their heads out of car windows: driving to the beach has all this to offer, and then some.
In case you couldn’t tell, I’m big into lengthy drives in scenic locations, with no distractions aside from the dulcet tones of a burnt mixtape CD from 2005 you found in your desk the day before. I’d say I’m even more committed than your average recreational driving enthusiast, making regular trips to my preferred auto mechanic to ensure my beloved vintage onvertible is always in top working order.
You thought this was going to be one of those stories about a meticulously planned coastal road trip being disrupted by car troubles, didn’t you? No dashed driving dreams for me, my friend – not so much as a skipped air con regas forcing me to sit in a pool of my own sweat. I just don’t roll that way, I don’t understand why other people choose to. It’s really not that hard to book in for a quarterly car service. Close to Seaford, there are plenty of good mechanics, and even ones who specialise in European vehicles like my darling convertible.
Did I mention that I drive a modified vintage convertible? Oh, yes, I did. Sorry to repeat myself, but she’s a big part of what makes driving to the beach so much fun. When the top is down, there’s no potential to be distracted by podcasts or even random desk CDs – it’s just you, the sea breeze roaring in your ears and the ‘driving to the beach’ song.