You know, tropical island life is magnificent. It really is and I have a sneaky feeling that my time in Taiwan isn’t going to be limited to a singular year. Who can give up a life of mangoes, dumplings, mountains and deep blue waterfalls so readily – not I, I say.

And when Sundays come along and you’re staring at another week of kids in the face, the first thing you want to do is go some place where it doesn’t even cross your mind, and one of those places is of course, the Pacific. The big, beautiful Pacific. 

So maybe you’ll head to a beach on the east coast, you’ll sprint across the hot sand into the cool ocean and you’ll be just about ready to dive in for a swim when a lifeguard tells you that you cannot go any further and the swimming area is limited to a small cornered off area going only to the depth of your knees. Perhaps this might annoy you. Perhaps, if you’re a certain french guy, you’ll run along the beach and dive in where they can’t catch you, sparking an applause from other westerners who also want to enjoy the blue ocean on, at the very least, their waist.

As it happens, just around the corner from the beach we happened to go to was another beach with no designated swimming area at all – meaning that you can go just about wherever your legs will paddle you.

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