I had this idea that Coco Beach would be really really busy on a Sunday but by the time I had got the taxi there, there was almost nobody on the beach. In fact there were probably more stall holders and hawkers there than customers.
I stated at the far end and walked the length of it, past piles of inner tubes used as swimming aids, past beach stalls with bright cotton tops and trousers and souvenirs.
The beach stalls battled for my business but I only sat once and had one bottle of cold lemonade. The few people on the beach were in the shallows with and without inner tubes.
I spoke to one group of two mothers and two toddlers and they only waited for a couple of sentences to pass between us before they asked me for money. What a shame that what is normally such a normal exchange turns to begging.
Sadly the beach is not clean, there is broken glass sticking out of the sand and discarded plastic and large tangles of fishing nets and flotsam and jetsam.
It was hot and my feet were covered in sand and having been a bit demoralised from several begging incidents, I headed home.