Ah, it’s that time of year again. Time to struggle through spring semester finals and keep counting down the days until Beach Week.
Because I am a third year and have never missed a Beach Week, this is a very familiar feeling to me. It’s a combination of stress and excitement, and that excitement has only grown over the years, because I know exactly what I am about to get myself into.
For those of you who have never gone, Beach Week is kind of a weird week. It is a week unlike any other during the year. It’s a combination of sun, not worrying about school, dartying, and a level of craziness similar to Boys’ Bid Night… for several days in a row.
If you’ve never been, it might take a little while to adjust to how Charlottesville has literally transported to North Myrtle temporarily. I remember during my first year I could not get over the feeling of walking down the beach and knowing the majority of the people I passed. You go to frat parties, but not in their normal houses. You go out to dinner and see groups of people wearing different letters, just like you would on a normal night on the Corner. You meet a random guy or girl on the dance floor, and chances are, that person goes to your school and knows at least half of the people you do, just like in Charlottesville.
And oh, the dance floor of Speegee… (That’s the official nickname of the Spanish Galleon, the most popular club for UVA Beach Week-ers. And, yes, I’m pretty sure part of the reasoning behind that nickname is to make it sound like a frat’s name.) It’s like they tried to make a frat party a little more adult, but didn’t entirely succeed. And honestly, no matter how hard you try, you will end up there at some point during the night. There’s no avoiding it. A little tip: don’t forget cash for the cover so you don’t have a problem getting in after waiting in that ridiculously long line. Rookie mistake.
Of course, between brunch, dinner, and ill-advised late night eating, you will probably eat at Hot Diggity Diner at least once a day while you’re there. This place is basically exactly what it sounds like. It’s a 50s style diner right on the beach, where it is perfectly acceptable to go wearing nothing but your bathing suit and an oversized tank. There are plenty of places to eat in the area, but for some reason, everyone just ends up there.
Oh and a few tips: Don't bring too many valuables. Apparently the Honor Code isn't quite as prevalent outside of UVA students. Carpool as much as you can. Not only will you save on gas, but for a lot of places you're staying, parking can be a bit of an issue. Make sure you put "North Myrtle" in the GPS and not just "Myrtle." I can't tell you how many people I know who have literally gone over an hour out of their way because they went to the wrong beach. The two aren't actually that close. And be prepared to see a lot of bikers. It seems like it ends up also being Biker Week almost every year.
Overall, Beach Week is a magical experience. Things can get shambly, and somehow everyone is just okay with it. Like surviving almost entirely on Hot Diggity’s Chocolate Volcano and Ramen leftover from the semester. Or adjusting to an entirely new nap-and-rally kind of sleep schedule. Just don’t forget your sunscreen, and start praying now that it won’t rain. And rest easy, UVA, because before you know it finals will be done and Beach Week will finally be here.