We are three days into our adventure on the south coast.
On the first day we wandered down to the beach cafe a mile or so down (quite literally) from my parents house overlooking the ocean, and wandered back in time for tea and medals.
On the second day we drove a mile further into the back of beyond, and did a coast walk around a far-flung piece of scenery. We anticipated hail and brimstone being thrown at us, but got away with overcast skies and bracing wind.
Today we marched over a hill and back again in pursuit of penny sweets, cheese, and cups of tea. On the homeward journey my middle daughter confidently informed me that she was going to die, and that her legs were about to fail. This was a blessing, given that she had been stung by a wasp earlier in the day, so a few aches and pains took her mind off the sting. I have no doubt she will done out on the “I got stung by a wasp” story for quite some time.
I don’t know what we might be doing tomorrow. Probably something involving somewhere quiet, and perhaps a cooked meal of some description. So far I have cooked, the kids have cooked, and my Mum has cooked. Tomorrow may be “frozen Pizza city”.
While walking up and down hills I have been recording our exploits into Strava – mostly to make the keep-fit crowd look bad. Walking 10km through the middle of nowhere seems to be a pretty good plan for keeping away from computers so far.
Anyway. It’s late, and I’ve probably overdosed on fresh air for one day. Time to sleep.