Renovations on the outdoor swimming complex near our rented apartment are not quite complete, but nearby we can see a tiny stone-covered beach. I set off.

To get there, you walk along a dusty street, bordered by parked cars and a low concrete barrier on the cliff side. The wind is cool against your skin. When you arrive at an opening in the barrier, you find a warning sign. You're not worried, though; you've gone in the ocean without a life guard before, and you don't even know if the water is warm enough for swimming today.

Oh. The "dangerous zone" seems to begin not at the water's edge but a hundred feet or so above it. Fortunately the cement steps and railing look sturdy enough.

As the railings turn to wood you pass by an informal storage area... The beach looks very slightly closer now.

Then the steps turn to wood as well, along a sheer wall. The beach looks even closer.

You stop and look to the left. 

And then to the right. 

Destination within reach.

Once you reach the bottom, you look back to see how far you've come. A  railings-eye view gives you a sense of accomplishment, and because you're not surrounded by the bones of earlier stranded swimmers, you don't expect there to be problems on the way back up. 

After clambering around and over a few small boulders, you've reached the water. It's not the kind of sandy beach where you lie out in the sun, but you knew that already. Wasn't it worth the trip?