It takes Mari a few moments to locate the location the shouts come from after she hears them, wandering over and rubbing her head. The first thing she spots is Oscar the Grouch, which leaves her certain she's going mad. This is all just a dream brought on by too many glasses of wine at a high altitude. "Hello," she calls doubtfully anyway, running a hand through her hair.

Her clothes and skin are already covered in sand. She'd wash it off in the sea if that seemed like a good idea, but her jeans are already difficult to walk in thanks to salt water. Taking off her jumper, she sits down next to the giant sesame street character and wriggles a pack of soaking polo mints out of her pocket. "Oscar, right? Polo?"