A day in Barranco: heat, cold and a red tomato

It was no ordinary day at the beach. The sky was grey and the wind carried the smell of salt and barbecues. Nevertheless, we threw ourselves into the adventure with Aunt Ana, Uncle Hjon, cousin Rafaela, and our favourite dad and mum.

"This is perfect beach weather," Mom announced optimistically, while Dad nervously searched through his bag. "Sunscreen?" he asked. Mom just shook her head. "We don't need it. There's no sun." That was her first mistake.

Heinzelmännchen am Heißen Sand

As soon as we arrived at the beach, they appeared: little elves. They were quick, quiet and everywhere. In no time at all, they had put up chairs for us, put up parasols and laid out a comfortable mat for Mama and Ana. Papa watched them, impressed.

"It's like magic," he muttered, sinking heavily into a chair. Hjon nodded in agreement as he opened the first beer bottle and handed one to Papa.

The sand was unbearably hot, so hot that I almost thought my feet would burn. I ran in zigzags across the beach, jumping like a crazy crab and shouting, "Ouch, ouch, ouch!" Mom just shook her head.

Rafaela, smarter than me, stayed sitting on the mat and watched as I finally jumped into the water.

Cold waves and red skin

The water was so cold that for a moment I thought my toes would fall off. I screamed - in shock, in fun, or both. Soon a few other children found us and we started a wild game of throwing stones, splashing water and loud laughter. Rafaela stood at the edge and occasionally called out tips that no one paid any attention to.

Meanwhile, Papa and Hjon were sitting on their chairs under the parasol, both with a bottle of beer in their hands.

“It’s vacation,” Dad explained contentedly, not noticing that his face and neck were slowly turning the color of an overripe tomato.

Mom, who always noticed everything, eventually came closer and took a closer look at him. "You're burned!" she said sternly.

“How is that supposed to work?” Dad defended himself. “There is no sun!”

“You are a scientific phenomenon,” Mom commented dryly.

"He's a walking Inca tomato," Rafaela added, almost falling onto the mat with laughter. I joined in, while Dad muttered quietly to himself that none of this could be true.

The dismantling of the Heinzelmännchen

After about two hours, the elves reappeared, as if they had been waiting for a secret signal. They packed up the chairs and umbrellas and disappeared as quickly as they had come, leaving an empty space in the sand.

"Time to go," Mom announced as she gathered our things. Hjon helped Dad up from the chair, who rubbed his burned neck and cursed under his breath.

I sprinted to the water one last time, shouted “Adiós!” to my new friends and then returned to the car where Rafaela and I were fighting for the best spot.

The conclusion

It was surprisingly quiet in the car. Mom and Ana were talking quietly, Dad was staring out the window and mumbling about sunscreen, and Rafaela and I were already planning the next trip.

“It was a good day,” Dad finally said, although his neck told a different story.

Barranco was an adventure full of contrasts: hot sand, cold water, helpful elves and a burnt tomato called Papa. I couldn't help but look forward to the next adventure.