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A Day in Hermosa Beach

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A Day in Hermosa Beach

A Day in Hermosa Beach

As I turn the corner off the Pacific Coast highway onto Hermosa Avenue, I see the beach. You could not ask for a better day. The ocean reflects sapphire from the sky above. As the waves roll onto the beach, I see a surfer falling off his board. On shore there are families having picnics in the sand. One family has several children playing in the shallow parts of the water. Another set of children are screaming at the sight of jellyfish. I continue to walk down the beach, I see the girls practicing for volleyball competitions. All of the girls are much tanner than my pasty white, not to mention they all town over 6 feet tall. The ocean's brisk 70 degree water cures the feet burned by the hot sand.

At the edge of the sand is the boardwalk, which separates the beach from the homes. The homes along the boardwalk are owned by some of the United States' richest buinessmen and women. The houses seem like castles designed very differently from the old farm houses of Illinois. As I continue to walk down the boardwalk, I can see large groups of people riding their beach biker or skating on their rollerblades.

About a mile down is Hermosa Pier. In front of the pier, the boardwalk widens to make room for several bars down Pier Street. Several people dance to loud music from inside the bars. I walk to the end of the pier; the cool 70 degree ocean breeze cools me from the scorching sun. I look back at the beach; I was now several feet out on the pier which was a long well built wooden and concrete mass strectching out 500 feet into the ocean water. I could see the other beach towns both to the North and to the South. I could see my mom's beach house a couple miles down tin Redondo Beach. Directly south of the pier about five miles away was Palos Verdes Estates. It is a mountain community on the most southern peninsula of the South Bay Area. All the homes there face the ocean and are very expensive.

I walk back to the boardwalk and continue to follow the coastline. I see one house for sale, so I decide to grab a brochure there were displaying; it reads four bedrooms, three baths, ocean front view, 8.7 million dollars. I stood there for several moments shocked at the price of the house. I looked at my brother and said, "Back home, 8.7 million would have bought a 20 bedroom house." He replied, "Yeah, 20 bedrooms on 30 acres of land too." After I come out of my shock I continue to walk; soon I reach the end of Hermosa boardwalk. It was now time to walk back to my mothers' house in Redondo Beach. I have walked a total of about three miles so far and wasn't sure if I was up to the task again. I also had the thought in the back of my head that I had to return to the boring state of Illinois the next day. I tried to think up a way to make it so I couldn't go back. Maybe I would sleep under the stars and miss my flight. Anything would have been fine just to stay a couple more days in paradise.

Before I turned around I stopped at one of the local delis and got a sandwich. I ate it outside and watched the waves roll in with the high tide. The day was coming

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