Uncle Chester's World Beach Tour ((free)) Review

Here’s what happened.

By: Your Favorite Nephew (Who Really Needs Sunscreen) uncle chester's world beach tour

“I’ve died and gone to a rosé commercial,” he said. Here’s what happened

“See?” he whispered. “Every beach has a voice. This one’s a comedian.” “Every beach has a voice

By now, Chester had adopted a seagull he named “Gregory.” Gregory was missing a foot and had no loyalty. We landed at Harbour Island, where the sand is the color of a melted strawberry milkshake. Chester wept.

Let me tell you about Uncle Chester. He’s sixty-three, retired from selling industrial lubricants, and has the kind of enthusiasm for geography that makes you suspect he owns a globe just to spin it aggressively. Last spring, he announced his “World Beach Tour.” No tour buses. No five-star resorts. Just a faded Panama hat, a metal detector that hasn’t found anything but bottle caps since 2009, and a cooler shaped like a watermelon.