But this is the USA, the land of convenience, so of course they have one! The National Building Museum is a few metro stops from us and together with "a collaborative and experimental practice operating in territories between art and architecture" (?!) called Snarkitecture they've transformed their large central hall into a beach - it's been featured in a few UK papers. It's actually a lot better than a real beach, because you don't have to cower in whatever small patch of shade you can find and the sand is AstroTurf so your sarnies don't get crunchy.
The "ocean" is made of a million recycled plastic balls. Yes, it's a huge ball pool, and all the things that only children are usually allowed to do are permitted for adults on a grand scale. Despite beach rules to the contrary jumping, shouting, throwing, etc. were all in evidence. And you didn't even have to take off your socks (after removing your sandals), which made this Englishman very happy.
I'm not sure I've ever seen Pete so happy. His face must have hurt from all the grinning. He didn't seem the least bit perturbed to be fully "underwater" in the deep end while Hannah and I struggled. It's not easy to right yourself when you're on your back, covered with spherical plastic. Wading/walking/swimming is a full body workout, and constantly pulling a laughing toddler from underneath so as not to lose him completely does wonders for the biceps.
Like all the best beaches, the place was packed. We arrived as soon as it opened and shortly after that the one-in-one-out policy started. Also, in a copy of the real world, people left shoes and clothing on deckchairs to reserve them before jumping in. Insert your own German tourist joke here.
After two hours I was well and truly spent, which is significantly longer than I last at a real beach. Keeping with the holiday tradition it was time to find omelet and chips served with a pint of beer for lunch. Wish you were here!
Private beach - King Salman of Saudi would approve.
Inside, a very nice view but prohibitive for my favourite beach activity of kite flying.
Dipping my toes in the water.
Pete dived straight in.
Like Weymouth beach on Bank Holiday Monday.
Taking a breather (no, those are not my sandals).
Dragging mummy under.
Swimming for it.
Rules, but whatever.
Just like one of those flotation tanks.
The view from the middle of the ocean.
Family holiday selfie.
Because it was actually pretty difficult to move around, the far corners were surprisingly quiet. Or "boring" as Pete now likes to tell us.
Looking back at the "pier".
The view from above.
And a few beers for lunch. Hey - I'm on holiday!
