Esther McCarthy: People show their true selves on the beach — here's who I've seen this summer

I have acclimatised to our new weather and have accepted the beach as my new home 

With the weather the way it is you could almost believe this photo was taken in West Cork. Picture: iStock

Now that we apparently live in The Bahamas, our new reality revolves around desperately rooting out those joke fans you got for a hen that have hilarious (filthy) slogans on them, spending all your money on sunscreen and blackout blinds, and existing on iced foodstuffs.

I have adapted quickly to this alternate universe and am embracing our sun-soaked days with aplomb. I have instructed the eldest boy to sell all our long-sleeved, long-legged garments and burn the rest. We’ll never need them again. The duvets have been discarded, replaced by light sheets and sticky air. We have accepted that the beach is our second home, and securing a good spot is crucial.

People show their true selves on beaches, I’ve learned in this heady heat wave. Here are some of the types I’ve conveniently stereotyped so you can suss them when you’re deciding where to lay your towel.

The Beverly Hillbillies

This gang are on it like a car bonnet. There is a massive intergenerational gang of them, and they will take over a large part of the precious strand with their canopy, a special chair for granny, lilos, umbrellas, five barbecues, three dogs, and the hamster in a special ball adapted for the sand. They will have the boom boxes, picnic baskets, five different bat-and-ball games, and they may even have a drone. On the plus side, they are generous and likely to share their loot with you. On the downside, you may end up on one of the cousins’ YouTube channels as he gets prank content by burying himself in the sand and scaring his sister silly.

I’m just a teenage dirtbag, baby

These goddesses will immediately plummet your middle-aged self- esteem to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Whatever happened to the awkward teen years? You think back wistfully to when teenagers wore togs passed down by older siblings so the crotch always sagged, and everyone had normal bodies that looked like they knew their way around a Curly Wurly, and the main accessory might be a mood ring just to see what colour it would go in the sun. There would also be the odd Curly Wurly on show in the saggy bathers. Now, these babes all look like Elle Macpherson; they wear string bikinis, have their bodies buffed, waxed, and toned. They have belly button rings, designer anklets, and nail art.

Their gorgeousness and youth make your teeth hurt. Their teeth are, of course, perfect, ones that have never been clamped together by an entire Curly Wurly (the bar, not the pubes). Do yourself and your cute little paunch and your fabulous bush a favour and don’t throw yourself down anywhere near these divine creatures. They are like the sun, too dazzling to stare straight at.

The gang of teenage boys

When did young fellas get so goddamn ripped? It’s all this gym, protein, and looking after themselves. Tsk.

The carrot tops

Whilst I am a big fan of the gingers, they are not made for the beach, and if you set your stall next to them, you will spend your time stressed out and trying to create some shade for them. It is only a matter of time before one of these translucent creatures spontaneously combusts, and no one wants to be around for that.

The buzzkills

“Oww, the sand is too hot!” “Ahh, there’s a fly on my 99!” “Gaaaah, the sea is too wavy!” Some people are just never happy. Transplanting themselves near a body of water does not change their personality. Their annoyance and discontentment will seep over to your beach mat; just avoid them.

The weirdos

They’re harder to spot on the beach, with sun hats and sarongs, but they eventually reveal themselves. I thought I was in the perfect spot recently until one of the women followed me out to a little rock pool, declaring loudly that she needed to go to the toilet, then positioned herself right next to me and, without breaking eye contact, did her business. She was wearing terry towelling shorts over her bikini, which she did not remove. She then shouted to the rest of her gang that she was finished, leaving me floating there in a state of trauma and a warm patch.

The one with a whiff of the menopause

This cantankerous creature has etched out her four-foot stretch of seafront real estate with grim determination. Though, she has an air of having given up. She hasn’t even got the decency to pretend to suck in her stomach anymore. Look away as she appears to care not who sees her pulling her cossie out of her crack. She has a stack of books, a hat that has seen better days, and she is surreptitiously taking notes on the people around her.

Approach with caution, perhaps throw a Brunch at her first to show you are a friend. If you have children, please make them avert their eyes, because she has a very rude fan, and she’s not afraid to use it.