Enjoyed a blissfully relaxing weekend with my darling offspring at the family’s secluded rural bolt-hole at the other end of the island.
Yes, OK, it’s a caravan, but if one ignores that fact, together with the woodgrain-effect décor and 1970s-style velour furnishings, it’s actually rather cosy and delightful, and a perfect base for muddy adventures, being less than a minute’s walk from the beach.We arrived at midday on Saturday, to catch the high tide for a bit of swimming and indolent lounging around in the glorious sunshine.
More scenes of erosion and ruined pillboxes in the pics below. The one in the sea was only just toppling when I first started visiting the island a couple of decades ago. Now it’s 30 feet from the cliffs on which it once stood.
Here’s my new best friend – my children’s cousins’ puppy.
In the evening we nipped over to a fantastic party in a specially erected tee-pee village at the far side of Fen Farm. Lovely people, delicious food and fireworks too.
Then back to the caravan, put SD3 to bed, and watched The Commitments with SDs 1 and 2. How many times have I seen that film? 20? 30? It’s one of my ultimate feel-good movies. It ticks absolutely all the boxes. And that night it ticked even more, because it had party-mum here singin’ along, too. Lucky it (Not).
Here’s a clip:
Oh, how can I post just one clip? Here’s another one. (I seriously, deeply love this film!!)
Following which excesses, I left the younger ones in the responsible hands of SD1 and nipped down to the beach with the dog at midnight, for a splash along the still-warm surf at high tide. A clear, balmy, brightly starlit night, but I didn’t meet another soul. How much we miss when we close the curtains and turn inwards instead of venturing out one last time.
Lay awake for ages, listening to the sea and the Labrador’s nocturnal gruntings . . .