Another blistering start at about 10, with Mairi rising for a Full Swedish (Massage), to nicely compliment the Full English (breakfast) I had earlier in the week.
A quick walk for Shug in the dunes, asking him nicely not to eat sand or drink seawater, then we nipped up to Bamburgh Castle, which was the most satisfying castle I’ve seen in a long while. Armoury, Scullery, paintings, china, cannon, battlements, and some really old archaeological stuff going on too.
Lunch in the castle tea rooms was also good, then we rolled back halfway to Seahouses, so that we could get in some serious beach frolicking. I had brought my trunks, but one paddle put paid to that idea. After I regained blood flow to my feet, I dug in the sand with Max, Leo and Shuggie, and Mairi and Linda relaxed and nattered. John had long since started to walk back from Bamburgh, and he met us halfway, pausing to stop the dog rolling in a seagull carcass, before striding off again. I buried the gull, with due honours, and then tried to bury Max and Leo, without success. Max actually dug himself a grave, and we found a good rock to use as a headstone. Leo buried himself in the kneeling position, and I buried my feet. The ladies had left by this time, presumably in disgust.
Dinner was a final plate of Haddock’n’Chips, in one of the seated fish and chip restaurants. Then a 99 flake before strolling home to watch another family DVD and drink even more lager. I should be keeping a Bridget Jones-style tally:
Friday 4 August. Cigarettes: 0, vvgood. Tins of crisp cold Kronenburg 1664: 4, fine by me.