Published in On Our Selection News January 23, 2014

All my life I have been lied to about how fun the beach is.

From movies to picture books, spending a day at the beach has been romanticised to give us unrealistic expectations. Throughout my childhood I was brainwashed with images of Bec Cartwright smiling in the Summer Bay surf, and lied to via interactive flap-books such as Spot Goes to the Beach. We’ve been led to believe that the seaside is fantastic. And after myweekend beach experience, I think it’s time the truth be told. Dannielle Goes to the Beach sounds like it would be a great picture book, possibly with lift-up-flaps and fun textures to feel. It would be a great book to sit on the kindy bookshelf. However Dannielle Goes to the Beach would be a harrowing tale of one girl’s transformation into a salt riddled, sub-human creature.

Now, the trouble with picture books is that they can’t convey the actual saltiness of the water. You forget that sting and instead remember the cool of the waves. This is why my book would be accompanied with a spray bottle of saltwater so the reader can repeatedly squirt themselves in the eyes to get the full experience. On Saturday, my eyes decided to be extra sensitive to the salt, causing my eyelids to burn with the fire of a thousand suns. Not only did this make it impossible to see, but also made my nose run like a tap, which resulted in constant sniffing and some super attractive heavy mouth breathing. That page would invite the reader to pull a lever illustrating the mucus intent on escaping the heroine’s nose. Then there would be a cardboard cutout of the girl that the reader could drag across the page in a curvy track to mimic the disorientated walk of the heroine as she attempted to find fresh water, hampered by blurry eyes and bare feet on hot cement.

My posture stooped and as I wiped my nose on my arm, I also wiped away any pride that remained. I stumbled to a sink and splashed my eyes for at least five minutes, still struggling to breathe through my nose. That page would have a lever to scrunch up the faces of passing tourists into disgruntled looks of disgust, and prompt the reader to mimic the sound of a vacuum cleaner trying to suck up wet cement (otherwise known as: “Dannielle trying to breathe post-ocean swim”). My next move was to find toilet paper to blow my nose with. This would be illustrated with a public toilet door flap to open, which would reveal a damp, torn pair blue Bonds men’s briefs crumpled on the floor next to a suspicious looking puddle. “Pull the lever to lower Dannielle’s faith in mankind!”, the book would instruct the reader.

Despite all this, the book would end with the girls’ sinuses clearing eventually. Little Dannielle would reason to herself that she must have just had a bad day as she gazed at the sunset sky over the beach. She’s enjoyed the beach before – this was a one-off bad experience. She doesn’t hate the beach, just feel how soft it made her skin! The book has a seemingly happy ending, with the final words being “to be continued.” The reader is then told to look out for the sequel – Dannielle Discovers Severe Scalp Sunburn and Endures a Week of Sickening Head Peel.