Sam was born & bred in Perth so naturally had the Westralian instinct to get as far away from the City once he reached adulthood.
This led to a serious case of the travel bug. He’s been all over the East Coast, Europe South East Asia, and the Americas. Alas, there is always a chip on his shoulder that prevents him from fully immersing himself in other cultures.
He was flicking through the stamps on his passport when he told The Times,
“You ever noticed that any beach you go to in the world has completely dog shit sand? There are a few exceptions but for the most part, I wouldn’t let my worst enemy get his toes into that granular peasantry”
Like many Westralians, Sam is unable to let his sand-snobbery go. A product of growing up with the best beaches, and the best sand, in the world. He continued,
“Basically, if I go to a beach with coarse or pebbly sand I’ll just sit their longing for the perfect sand of Mullaloo. I don’t think the locals really like to hear me complain but how else will they know their sand is sub par? I can’t help it”
He even recounted a time he met a girl over in Melbourne and she said she’d take him for a day at the beach. After a short train ride they arrived at Hampton.
After the short walk from the traino to the beach, he asked his date whether he needed any inoculations before stepping on that sand and launching into a tirade.
We tracked down his date on the day who said he really ruined the magic by it a coastal wasteland. Adding,
“He asked me if I even knew what good sand felt like. He then told me to never refer to a bay as a beach again before telling me he’s almost certainly contracted hep C from this so-called sand. He kept telling me he was sorry but he couldn’t stop himself”
We understand your pain Sam.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?
