My brother David suffers from a learning and intellectual disability. To put it simply, he's thirty years old with the mental age of a six year old.

Despite his condition, he is a brilliant swimmer; he can hold his breath for more than a minute, jump from significant heights, and swims like a pro.

Though very strongly built and with enough muscle to take on anyone, his co-ordination and balance on land leave much to be desired.

But the moment David's toes touch water, he's in his element; he's agile, comfortable, and could fool anyone into thinking that there's absolutely nothing wrong with him.

For obvious reasons and political correctness, I don't like using the words 'wrong with him' but let's face it, the truth of the matter is that there is!

When it boils down to being practical and to living life the best way we can, the first step is to acknowledge that something IS wrong, and then to get over it and move on.

Like most people with some form of disability, David has been over protected. This means that despite his swimming agility, he's spent most of his time swimming in pools under the watchful eyes of more than one adult.

This year I decided to fight the protection battle, take the bull by its worried horns, and change this.

Thanks to some extra time off that I managed wrangle my way, thanks to the jelly fish which have (till now) stayed away, and thanks to my ever increasing body temperature, my brother and I now go swimming in real waters at least twice a week.

Though this is certainly not David's first experience in open seas, his reaction would have you fooled. As we approach a beach or a shore, the look on his face is priceless and not unlike that of a great explorer about to discover a whole new world, without any fear of the unknown but full of excitement for the beyond. He trembles for its newness, yearns for its vastness and is mesmerized by its beauty.

Getting to our desired bathing spot is usually quite an adventure, because as I said, on solid ground David has some co-ordination and balance issues, so even the most accessible of beaches poses a challenge for him.

Having been protected all of his life, he's also over cautious, so going down a flight of stairs for instance, takes him twice as long as it would anyone else.

Negotiating pointy rocks and uneven terrain is a heart pumping experience, but by the time we get to the water's edge, he has gained enough confidence to let go of my hand, and leap into the sea, eyes open and screaming with delight.

Every time David is enthralled with all the things we take for granted. He's fascinated by the saltiness of the water, intrigued by the algae on the shore, and charmed by all the sea shells he can count. He's never bored of the sand, nor of the smashing waves, and given the option he'd stop time and we'd never make our way back home.

At the beach specs go flying and are replaced by goggles and within seconds he's lost in a world of his own, touching everything in sight, diving as far as his breath will allow, and laughing loudly even under water.

On the way back home, in the car, he talks mostly about his transformers, his video games, and which beach is planned for the next time. Of course I understand how his peers might find this boring or annoying, and I understand why he doesn't have a real friend to speak of, but over the years David has also taught me how to stop worrying about this too.

You see, every now and then he lets me into his world, where unlike what I had imagined, he is King.

In his world David is usually in the middle of a very important struggle between a giant alien and a human soldier with special powers. In his world things depend on him and he's an everyday hero. That's something that those who like me have nothing 'wrong with them' can never manage.

So what if the world states that my brother has a disability? He's the best teacher with the best life lessons that I've ever had.

So what if they stare, and whisper to each other when they see a grown man building sand castles?

Kudos to all those who have something 'wrong with them' I say, because it's thanks to my genuine, impulsive, authentic and uncoordinated brother that my world is more than bearable even when it's not.