The seriously cool have a mollusc in one hand and a mobile in the other

SHE was walking through a graveyard in a bikini, managing a crisis in her office. Not that it looked, at first glance, like a graveyard.

It looked like a white sand beach thickly edged with seashells. Every now and again, the woman in the bikini would bend to pick up a perfect conch or scallop shell from the abundance that give the area its nickname: the Seashell Islands.

But the fact is that seashells are the post-mortem remains of what were once living organisms. So the tourists with their net bags, systematically selecting shells to take home with them, are graverobbing, in a clean, sunshiny way.