The sand is a billion degrees and I do not feel like wearing flip flops!

We went down to Galveston this weekend which was supposed to be a nice relaxing break.

We'd been there approximately before I almost collapsed from exhaustion for the first time.

If you've never been to Galveston then I will explain that all of the beach houses there are up on stilts as it has a habit of getting in the way of hurricanes which bring devastation, along with flooding.

This means that when you empty the car to take your things into the house you have to climb a flight of stairs before you even get in the house.

Then, some bright spark decided that the living room and kitchen area would be up another flight of stairs.

We only go for the weekend but when you have a Wife and two dogs, it takes a number of trips to empty the car. Did I mention that this is in 100 degree heat?

The second time I almost died on my relaxing weekend, I was carrying a bag of stuff, a couple of chairs and an umbrella to the beach. Oh, and two dogs who were sharing a lead so one was pulling the other all over the place.

As soon as we set foot on the sand Busby started screaming in pain which was his way of telling us that the sand was about a thousand degrees and we must be joking. I took the dogs back to the house and set off back to the beach, carrying my bag of stuff, two chairs and umbrella and also burning my own feet on the thousand degree sand because my Wife insisted I wear flip flops like 'a normal person'.

The third time my Wife almost killed me (it was her idea to go for a relaxing weekend at the beach house) was when we headed down to the beach on Sunday with some friends.

This time as there were more of us going you'd expect that there were more people to carry the load but oh no, it just meant that we had to take a lot more stuff so add all of their own belongings to the extra chairs, and an additional gazebo thingy that weighed a ton. Luckily the gazebo thingy was on wheels which was useful, until we got to the sandy part of the beach anyway.

Despite being a hurricane survivor, this latest trip to the beach was too much for the gazebo thingy and it refused to be as easy to assemble as the directions promised.

Trying to keep spirits high the male fraternity decided to play some football on the beach and despite putting Zidane to shame with my silky skills, my feet decided they disagreed with the sandy surface and decided to blister, badly. The sand was helpful as it attempted to fill the blisters which meant I had to spend the afternoon ripping the skin off my right foot and trying not to scream like Drogba while trying to clean it.

The fourth and final time I almost dropped dead was when it came time to reload the car and make the same trips up and down the many flights of stairs in the same billion degree heat.

The good news is it's the 4th of July this week so we have a long weekend coming up and we can do it all again.