It had to have been 90° with 105% humidity. The clean, dry shirt I put on this morning was now a damp mess, clinging to the severe sunburn on my shoulders. Warm waves splash against my bare feet. My brand new camera swings at my side. A young family has a picnic in the sand behind me. Long expanses of sand and water lay before me. The slightest breeze plays at the tips of my hair.
If it hadn't hit my scalp I wouldn't have felt it. A glance at the sky reveals a dark looming storm cloud - a million times darker than anything I've seen all week. Another raindrop falls on my head and I begin to pick up my pace. My new camera just happens to be about 300$, and it alone holds all the pictures of my adventures in Australia. From looking at it, the cloud appears to end about half a mile in front of me. I decide to make a run for it. There is no one else on the beach, so I run as fast - however awkwardly - as I can. The rain starts coming down harder now, making ripples in the ocean. The sun falls behind the dark cloud and a breeze sends the rain sideways, splashing against my shoulder. With no shield for my beloved camera, I cradle it in my arms and run with a strength I didn't know I had.
A few yards ahead of me is a notorious crocodile estuary. The hotel owner has warned me to be wary around here, especially when the tide is high. I had just visited the zoo yesterday where I stood mere feet away from a crocodile that swallowed a full sized black labrador in one bite. Throwing caution to the wind, I charge right through it, not daring to look around for company.
Even though I have surpassed the half-mile mark, the rain still thunders down on me, threatening the safety of my possesions. The sand is getting sticky beneath my feet; my shirt feels painted on. Finally - finally I reach the safety of my hotel. I collaspe on the bench under the awning and watch, exhausted, as the rain washes the day away.