Sintra

From having not been away away in forever, to a sudden flurry of trips, I've not been able to keep up with myself!

So, I write this first post (possibly of 4, maybe even 5.. strap in!) in retrospect. Hopeful that I haven't forgotten anything, but also aware that realistically, I probably will have. One thing I won't forget in a hurry is the feeling I had as I lay on a yoga mat in the middle of an enchanted forest in Portugal, having only been at work less than 24-hours before. Pure bliss. Surreal, but pure bliss.

I think booking a retreat for our first adventure abroad in over two years was definitely the right thing to do. It was an utterly magical day among a small group of lovely women, in a really beautiful setting. We shared. Experiences, stories, expression, an enchanting space, a delicious lunch; it felt like a real 'welcome back'. And even 3 months on, I'm still carrying the energy with me. I'm still asking the questions; still keen to learn more. Someone actually suggested the other day that I should blog about my yoga journey. If I do, I think the Sintra retreat might be where I start.

But, for now, I'll move on to the evening after. Having arrived in the dark on the previous evening in a taxi that hurtled along the narrow, cobbled streets the wrong way (my Portuguese may be next to non-existent, but I can still recognise signs for one-way streets), then headed straight out to the retreat the next morning, we hadn't really had time to get our bearings.

So, when our day in the forest came to a close, we wandered slowly back to our apartment; taking a little more time to admire Sintra in all its fairy-tale glory (made even more charming in the evening sun). That evening, we learned that we'd be eating a lot of bacalhau, especially at the particular restaurant we had chosen where they served nothing but (it's cod, by the way). 

The next day, the weather had turned. But it was dry, so we headed to Cascais for a day by the sea. Found a nice, sheltered spot on a small beach in a bay where we stayed until lunch; people watching, splashing in the sea, and telling ourselves that it definitely was just about bikini weather..

One of the women at the retreat had recommended a place in Cascais by the lighthouse which offered live radio and good food. So, we walked there for lunch along the waterfront and past some interesting buildings (and a volleyball tournament (we didn't stop)).

Sam was glad that we opted to climb the lighthouse before eating, as once at the top, she may have otherwise lost her lunch. In going up when we did, we also seemed to beat the crowd. Sat at the bottom looking up as we ate, it certainly seemed a lot more popular all of a sudden (we're clearly just such trend-setters).

After food, we were back on the bus, and on our way to another recommended spot; Adraga Beach.

The weather had still not improved, but having grown up spending time on Norfolk beaches in all weathers, in all seasons, we were not deterred. Seemed this particular beach was a popular spot with surfers; we were taken aback by the power of the waves as we wandered along the sand, and between rocks.

As much as we didn't want to tear ourselves away, we were aware that time was pressing on, and we were ever-so-slightly in the middle of nowhere (eek!) with a fairly hefty walk back up a hill to where we'd be catching the bus.

Well, Google Maps failed us. And while there's a fairly long story here somewhere, I'll spare you the details and just say that we were truly grateful to the elderly gentleman who entertained us with his fashioning (and testing) of some sort of pan flute made from plastic tubing, as we sat on the kerb outside his house. He really did sound surprisingly good!

Eventually, the bus came (of course not before two others that couldn't take us where we needed to go appeared) and it was back to town for dinner and an early night to recover.

Aahh, the Pena Palace. Just when we thought the weather couldn't get any better, it didn't. It got worse. A whole lot worse. But in true British-tourist style, we powered on through (well, and we were lulled into a slightly false sense of security as we headed out into sunshine in the town itself in the morning).

..actually, it wasn't exactly sunny, was it?

One thing we learned about Sintra is that it's a bit of a micro-climate. And as our bus climbed up the mountain rounds, there was a distinct shift. The Pena Palace of pictures was barely visible as we reached the end of the line for entry. It was comical, really, how determined we all were to have a nice time as we stood in the queue being battered by wind and horizontal rain. Some of us had been sensible enough to have at least something waterproof to hand, but many of us had not (although, as I tried to reason, skin is waterproof.. isn't it?).

Maybe not what we'd expected, it was still an experience and we made the best of it. The cloud did clear up at least enough to appreciate the palace's colourful facade, and our walk through the gardens was at least dry.

The Castle of the Moors, we both agreed, would definitely make for a lovely family day out on a bright and sunny day. We soldiered on, but by this point, we really were getting very wet, and could barely see where we were going as we climbed up steps and along the ruined walls, let alone admire any views of the town and countryside below. Wet through to our unmentionables, it was time to swallow our pride and call it a day.

A warm shower, and a swift change into some dry clothes back at the apartment, we found ourselves in a lovely little restaurant almost right next door, where the waiter (possibly the owner, too) was very keen for us to try the desserts he'd just whipped up for the evening service. We did, and they were delicious.

Having abandoned our palace / castle crawl the previous day, we resolved to fit one more in before we would make our way back to Lisbon for our flight home.

Maybe it was in part an improvement in the weather, but I think either way we both agreed that we'd saved the best til last. Much of the palace itself was closed off for refurbishment, but the gardens were great fun to explore. We enjoyed spiralling down into the depths of the well, crossing various bridges, climbing towers, and walking through the grotto.

Finally, after a bite to eat, it was time to collect our luggage from the Tourist Information office and board a train to Lisbon.

Having spent longer than we anticipated in Sintra in the morning, our Lisbon exploration was brief, and a little bit frantic. But it was nice to crash a honeymoon (don't worry, they were expecting us), and to enjoy refreshment while enjoying a view over the sea in the sunshine (typical). Oh, and there was definitely time for tram hysteria, so that was good.

I think a few days away was the perfect amount to ease us into holiday-ing again. And it was very grounding (if that's the right word) to see people we knew. A very special trip, all round, really. Maybe we'll be back for more retreating in the not too distant future. I hope.

Back to Brighton

Last time we were in Brighton was February 2020. We saw Bombay Bicycle Club at the Brighton Centre, and had a generally very lovely weekend. We were lucky to get away again before the first Lockdown; to Norwich for another gig (Blossoms this time) at UEA. Then disaster struck. I just hope we haven't jinxed anything this time.

It was cold. It was windy. So very windy. But the sun shone, and we've been drifting in and out on our journey back because we definitely got our fill of sea air.

First stop, just like last time, was to The Pond where we're always very pleased by the beer selection, and also enjoy the Bao served up alongside said beers. Full of beer and bao, we made our way to our home for the night in the hopes of dropping bags and getting our bearings.

We'd booked a room with a sea view in a small guesthouse in the Kemptown area. The other end of the seafront to where we'd stayed previously, but still within walking distance from the Brighton Centre.

After dropping our bags, we took a detour along the seafront before heading via our favourite little Swedish shop for salted liquorice, and back into town to the Lanes. Time flies when you're having fun, and by the time we'd mooched a while, it was time for food again. Found ourselves at Dead Wax Social advertising beer, vinyl, and pizza on the chalkboard outside. By this point, I was popping the Rennies (aahh, travel stress, how I've missed thee), so didn't partake in the beer, but pizza courtesy of Decked Out Pizza was delicious!

Just about gave into the urge to nap when we got back again to our room. Quick turnaround, and we were back out (this time avoiding the seafront, and the worst of the wind which by this point could only really be described as 'getting a little bit ridiculous') and headed for the Brighton Centre. This time, to see The Kooks and The Snuts supporting their anniversary tour.

Safe to say, 15 years since their first album, the Kooks have still got it. Was a fairly bittersweet feeling watching them from the comfort of seats in the balcony (you have no idea the relief I felt when I opened our tickets the night before and saw the word SEAT at the top (or maybe you do..)); lots of nostalgia combined with lots of wishing 15 years wasn't so long ago. We were in good company. There was definitely a 'type' for the most part in the crowd.

Blown back along the promenade to our hotel, we were glad of a cup of tea (gosh we really are old) before bed.

This morning, we found brunch at a little café a 5 minute walk (uphill - what is it with Brighton and all its hills!?) from where we were staying. Good food, good drinks, good music, good atmosphere. 

Were a little worried by lashings of rain while we sat, but actually by the time we had checked out of our accommodation and were out and about on the seafront again (of course), the sky was clearing and even the wind had died down.

A walk along the beach to the old pier was the perfect way to start a Sunday. Even a fall on the rocks (so smooth, obviously) didn't detract. 

Back to the Palace pier, we enjoyed losing all of our 2p coins on the Tuppenny Falls, and a couple of games of Air Hockey. Grabbed a bag of donuts as we left and made our way to catch our train.

Arrived at the station with plenty of time for a Bagelman and to find some semi-decent seats for the first leg of our journey.

Since then, we've had a rather long wait in a carpark at the back of Three Bridges station for a coach which took us along leg two to the sounds of Al Stewart on BBC Radio Sussex. Almost nearing the end of leg three, and looking forward to comfy cosies and cat cuddles (how's that for some alliteration?).

Thankful today for train journeys long enough to allow the creative juices to flow. Hopeful today for a few more ventures out of London this year. We'll see.

A Concrete Beach

Almost 30ºC and the celebration of our four years; obviously we had to borrow a Pepper and head to the coast. Botany Bay at Broadstairs has been on my list for a while, but at this time of the year there are no dogs allowed on the beach, so I scoured the Internet for dog friendly beaches in Kent, and landed on Folkestone.

As we made our way out of London, we both laughed at the memory of our Dungeness experience. So driving into Folkestone itself, we were at least relieved to be met by civilisation, although we'd stopped at a services on the way for picnic supplies just in case. 

The main road leading down to the Harbour was reminiscent of Hunstanton seafront, with cars parked all the way along for beach-goers. Arriving in the afternoon meant that spaces were already taken, so we drove back on ourselves to find a quieter spot. Following signs for a footpath, we headed towards Warren Country Park and the beach that lay below the East Cliff.

We both agreed that in the heat, we could have been walking through Spanish hills and were glad of a bit of wall to sit on by the time we got down to the sea. I don't think either of us was quite expecting what we were greeted by. Where the footpath opened out onto the 'beach', there were families dotted between groynes on pebbles leading down to the sea to our right, and fishermen on concrete to the left. I'm not quite sure how I'd describe the concrete. It was like a promenade as the sea came right up and was immediately deep, but it was much wider and more vast. 

We opted for concrete as it was emptier. We wanted to eat, and weren't sure how Pepper would feel about sitting by us to wait if temptation was all around. Our spot on a wall gave optimum opportunities for people and seagull watching. We weren't keen on joining the masses back the way we'd come, so we resolved to venture further after eating to see if we could find a quieter patch of beach beyond the concrete.

I'm not sure if it was the heat combined with a fairly insistent sea breeze, or our not really knowing where we were going, but the walk seemed endless. There were pretty white cliffs to enjoy on one side, a surprisingly blue sea on the other, and Pepper was clearly in her element, so it wasn't all bad. After a while, we spied what we thought was more pebbles (it's amazing how much like sand concrete looks from afar. Disappointingly deceiving.), so we decided that we'd found where we were heading.

Passing signs to the 'nudist beach', Steven suddenly seemed to be flagging, but I valiantly strode on, convinced that because they were written in chalk, they could hardly be official. Eventually we passed what felt like a warning sign informing us that the 'clothed' or 'textile' beach was very much back the way we had come. By this point, though, I could definitely tell that we were in fact heading away from concrete and onto a natural beach, so I really wasn't keen to go back. Met, however, with fully bronzed bods, I reluctantly agreed to turn around. We then spent much of our return walk feeling sheepish as we passed people who we now realised would think that the nudist beach had been our plan all along.

We took a couple more sitting stops to rest a while in the heat, and by the time we reached the car were both completely zonked. Sea air really does take it out of you! The drive back to London was a sleepy one for Pepper and me in the back. I might be biased, but I still think Norfolk beaches trump Kent's offerings. We'll see if a different one can change my mind one day.

Thailand: Ko Lanta, Phuket & back to Bangkok

It wasn't strictly half-way through, but I'm going to call the islands the second part of our adventure, because they were so different to where we began. After visiting Chiang Mai, we made our way to Ko Lanta for some sun, sea, and sand.

Our taxi arrived at 5am to take us to Chiang Mai airport. A packed breakfast from the hotel of bread and butter, croissants, a boiled egg (as you do), green fluffy cakes, and a carton of orange juice perked us up a little (even if we did then have to abandon some of it in a moment of panic when met with airport security much sooner than expected). Yet again, Air Asia was quick and easy, and we were soon at Krabi airport.

I know I'm very easily amused, but I don't think I'll ever tire of being met at airports by men holding signs with my name on them.. In the comfort of yet another wonderfully air conditioned taxi, we made our way to Ko Lanta. On the drive we passed innumerable 'palm farms', as I decided they must be, not so dissimilar to the tree-lined roads of Norfolk (only perhaps a little more exotic).

A short ferry crossing took us onto the island and in no time we had arrived to another welcome fruit juice, accompanied this time with a cold flannel to combat the heat. Truly not backpacking, our hotel, Crown Lanta Resort & Spa was in the most beautiful setting; up in the hills with panoramic views of the sea, and its own private beaches. We'd booked ourselves into a pool access room which meant just that; straight out of bed and into the pool with but a few steps. Not even unpacked yet, as we waited for our bags to be brought to the room, we sat on the edge for a little taster dip.

Our room was actually at the bottom of the hill, so getting anywhere meant climbing a long series of steps, or if well timed, hopping on a glorified golf buggy to save our legs. What felt in the heat like hours later, we made it to the beach-side terrace where I indulged in a club sandwich (holiday classic, thanks Sam) and we shared a jug of beer. It wasn't long before I was racing down the steps to actually walk on sand and wade out to sea. We whiled away the rest of the day on the beach, before moving to the hotel's Reggae Bar for a fire show, and sunset over the water, and then into town for food.

After the best breakfast yet (the selection was huge), we were ready for another day of beach. This time we ventured beyond the hotel and settled on Long Beach (which, it turned out, really was very long) on the West coast of the island for a spot of sunbathing, swimming, and more indulgence. 

A spot of Google-ing had told us that there was an animal welfare centre nearby, and as soon as Steven heard that they were on the look-out for dog walkers, it was happening. We'd read that the dog walking took place between specific hours when the heat wasn't so intense, so we made our way in time for the afternoon slot. We began our visit in Kitty City, where I got swarmed by kittens intrigued by my beach bag and flip flops, before heading into the kennels where we got the chance to walk a puppy, Olive, on an integration walk with a group of other dogs and walkers.

Having taken a tuk tuk to the centre, the driver had decided to stick around ready to take us to our next destination. We refused at first, but giving in relatively quickly, we were glad that we had when we realised how far we would have actually had to walk (darn our British stubbornness). He dropped us further along Long Beach, at Phra Ae Beach where we enjoyed another sunset; this time with added bonfires, and a small naked boy who wanted to play.. 

As we left the beach to head back to the hotel, low and behold, 'our' tuk tuk driver was still hanging around, so we took full advantage and hopped in in search of food. We ate at Fat Monkey, or Ling Uan where I enjoyed a slightly festive tasting cocktail, and we received a complimentary bamboo straw. Our final stop before the return to our hotel was Dive Bar, which turned out to be an excellent spot for people and dog watching.

Our final day in Lanta was spent exploring further afield. We booked a driver through the hotel and he took us around for the day. Clearly embracing the tuk tuk life, we requested an open-back vehicle instead of air conditioning, which turned out to be a great choice for being able to see what was around us.

I hadn't realised that many of Thailand's islands have their own mangrove forests, but they do. So our first stop was to one of these. We were offered, but declined, a boat tour, and instead took to the boardwalk for a while before feeling slightly uneasy about monkeys (we saw one and he moved fast), and buzzy, bitey things (we'd forgotten our bug spray on this particular occasion), turning back. 

The next stop was Lanta Old Town. Seemingly a small strip of quaint shops and restaurants on the East Coast of the island, we stopped for lunch with a view that took my breath away. The haze of heat over the most still, turquoise water was truly something special. I could have quite happily spent the rest of the day just admiring it. We walked a little way after food, along the pier, and back again, but it was the heat of the day at this point, so we were soon ready to move on.

The final stop was another beach; this one on the Southern coast of the island. Bamboo Beach was another quiet spot as Phra Ae had been, and the sea, clear of rocks, was very pleasant for a dip in the late afternoon.

After several ridiculously early mornings for flights, we decided to take our journey to Phuket at a more leisurely pace. Check-out was at noon, so I took full advantage of our pool, and the sunshine, before we finally headed off to catch the ferry at Saladan Pier.

A super simple journey brought us right to our next hotel, and to a waiting Clair, also now on her holidays. Already moving into the evening by the time we'd got our bearings (it really does get light far too early in Thailand), we walked along from the hotel to find food (of course). Re-energised, we made our way to the beach where we could at least hear the sea, waves crashing, even if we couldn't quite see it in the darkness. From a safe distance, we browsed the market stalls lining the seafront. 

Back at the hotel, we were treated to our night's entertainment by a one-man band and his slightly glitchy laptop. Maps and leaflets laid out on the table, we made a plan of action for the next few days.

Had an unexpected additional guest in our room...

When on the coast, go to the beach. After a Thai version of an English fry-up which came in a frying pan with hot dog sausages and some mystery green leaves (it was not Spinach), our first full day was a beach day. The heat was intense, so most of the day was spent in the fetal position trying to keep all limbs in the shade and if not in the shade, we were making mad dashes down to the sea across the burning sand. By the evening, sunset from the water was pretty special.

Our second day was spent on a speedboat exploring islands around Phuket. An early taxi pick-up meant that there was no time for breakfast. Clair and I definitely got to the verge of hangry, but were incredibly happy to discover that there was a complimentary breakfast buffet at the marina. Our plates were filled.

Once on the boat, our first stop was Khai Island which was a surreal experience, almost scarily busy with tourists. I assume that in the past, Khai Island was uninhabited. Now it's home to a daily influx of tourist boats and covered in huts selling food, drink, and souvenirs. Having walked most of the way around , we found a patch of sand near the water, and spent our time there just taking it all in.

At this point we were feeling rather guilty for adding to the tourist footprint, so some solace came in the fact that we didn't actually stop at the famous Monkey Beach, but just sailed by on our way to Phi Phi Don where we stopped for another buffet lunch, and a dip in the sea away from the crowds.

The boat continued on to a bay where Clair and Steven partook in some snorkelling for a while, and I acted as camera-woman. Our final stop then was Maya Bay, due to close in a matter of weeks to give the sea-life some rest from tourist abuse. The sand here was the most gorgeous sand we experienced in Thailand; so soft and light. We bathed in sun, and sea, before it was time to head back to the boat for the choppy ride back to Phuket.

After a full day of sun exposure, we thought we'd treat ourselves to a late night aloe vera full body massage. Full of sea air, and that floating feeling, we definitely slept well.

With an evening flight back to Bangkok, we still had a whole day left. We'd considered following the pattern of our previous destinations, and exploring the wider vicinity, but upon the realisation that this was the last of our sea and beach time, we abandoned all urges for exploration and headed back to the beach. Not before, of course, another big breakfast. This time, we indulged in a 'Viking Breakfast' which offered the usual eggs and bacon, with additional ham, and cheese. It was too good. 

This time, in a bid to keep cool while at the same time making the most of the Vitamin D before our impending return to cold and grey, I wandered along the shoreline; people watching, rescuing flip flops, and admiring a quieter beach on a Tuesday as opposed to the Sunday before.

It was good to be back in Bangkok without jet lag. Our hotel, Mövenpick Hotel, was beautifully elegant, and felt a real treat for our final few days. Again, there was welcome juice (the tastiest yet and I'm not even sure what it was.. I got 'Thai herbs' from the receptionist), and after spending a couple of nights above Phuket's night fish market, it was incredibly peaceful, too, despite being in the city.

Another lovely breakfast at Roast set us up well for the day. Felt very at home as we popped into H&M for some sunglasses and 'appropriate footwear' before heading on the Sky Train to another pier to catch a river boat. Hop on, hop off, has never felt more accurate. At each 'stop' it really was a race against time to make the jetty before the boat went on its merry way. 

We began and ended our day at Wat Arun; a beautiful ceramic-covered temple on the riverside. Later, we over-looked it from a restaurant on the other side as the sun set. A special beginning and ending to the day. Other stops included The Grand Palace which was teeming with umbrella-wielding, shouty tourists, and another temple, Wat Pho, which was much more calm and peaceful.

Sadness all round as we reached our final day in Bangkok, and waved goodbye to Thailand. Having been so busy almost every day of our stay, we were ready to flop by this point, so we didn't go too far. After a final breakfast (another excellent one. The sausage was a highlight, this time) at Chu Chocolate Bar and Cafe, we headed to The Golden Mount for a view over the city.

The rest of the day was spent by the hotel's rooftop pool from which we eventually tore ourselves away for a final dinner together at Cabbages and Condoms, a restaurant supporting social development programmes. Back at the room, we shared a few more beers, and said our goodbyes (not before Clair raided our hotel freebies). It was another early night in preparation for another early morning and a full day of flying back home. 

It's interesting that Thailand has never really appealed to me over other places, because I'm really glad we went. We had the most fantastic two weeks, full of new experiences and adventure, and it really is a lovely place to be. One day, I'm sure I'll go back, and I'll definitely be back in another part of Asia in the near future I hope, now I've had a taster..

Exmoor

This time last week, we were walking Pepper around the farmland surrounding our Bed and Breakfast and it was glorious. Today, I'm waiting for the washing machine to stop so I can go to the gym for the first time in at least a month (naughty). Officially a weekend back to routine.

Last Saturday was a very special birthday, so I whisked one man and his dog away for a weekend in Exmoor. Friday night we made the long drive down from London, which involved plenty of motorway driving and some slightly precarious dark, narrow, and windy roads.

There's something about arriving somewhere in the dark that I really like. Knowing that in the morning you'll awake to really see where you are. Needless to say, the setting of our Bed and Breakfast did not disappoint. We awoke to the sun peeping through the window of our top floor room, and looking out enjoyed the view of trees and rolling fields. The smell of bacon and toast wafted up from the kitchen downstairs. We were content.

A hearty breakfast enjoyed of lots of local produce including the best bacon I have ever tried, we took Pepper out for a much needed walk before heading back to the room to make a plan for the day. Only having two days to explore, we asked our hosts where would be best to try and see, and with their recommendations mapped out, we were off.

We first made our way to the Valley of Rocks. It was hard to decide whether the narrow and windy roads had been better in the dark and in our blissful unawareness, or whether they were better when we could see where we were going, but were also confronted with sheer drops frequently appearing on one side of the road or the other. Either way, pheasant dodging made for entertaining driving and the scenery was stunning. As we neared the coast, we passed through the moorland and were absolutely blown away by what surrounded us. Unspoiled hillside as far as the eye could see.

Having reached the Valley of Rocks, we stopped for tea and cake before heading off for a walk around the area. Pepper led the way, scrambling up one of the rocks. From the top we looked down to the sea and across to the Welsh coast. Back at the bottom again, we continued across to the next rock where goats were basking in the afternoon sun. Had she not been on her lead, I think we may have lost Pepper at this point as she was very keen to make new friends. Goat chasing evaded, we were onto our next destination.

It seemed that no matter where you were headed in Exmoor, you had to take the same roads. So despite apparently travelling in the opposite direction to reach our next stop, we drove along familiar routes, passing through a village where we'd almost stopped before. Given a second chance, we decided that we would stop, at Lynmouth, where we wandered along the river and down to the sea. Despite our best attempts, Pepper was not hugely convinced by the sea, but she did enjoy pattering across the rocks, all the same.

From Lynmouth, we continued our drive along the coast, and eventually found Porlock. The town itself was yet another sleepy one, so we continued on to the Weir where we hoped we might find some actual sand and more sea. Here I was reminded almost of the Norfolk coast as marshland met the sea, but apparently sandy beaches are not Exmoor's strength and after a hearty portion of sausage and chips, we were met with more rocky shore for our final walk of the day.

Sunday came, and we planned to make our way back to London gradually via a few more points of interest. We began our day at Dulverton, the village close by to our Bed and Breakfast, described as the 'gateway to Exmoor'. Armed with instructions for a circular walk heading out of the village and back in again, we made our way along the road from the carpark and into the nearby woods. I think it has to be said that I am not good at following written instructions. Give me a map or give me sign posts, but give me written instructions and I spend the whole time on edge, worrying that I've missed something or that they're out-dated and refer to paths or bridges no longer there. We had only paid for an hour of parking, and half an hour into our walk, still heading away from the village, I was not filled with great confidence. We comforted ourselves, however, in the hope that the traffic wardens of Dulverton might not be as fierce as those in London, and felt satisfied that we were at least not lost. Our walk was a pretty one, either way, and we did eventually make our way back to the car.

Tarr Steps, an ancient stone bridge crossing the River Barle was our next destination. It was raining by this point, in contrast to the sunshine of the day before, but this did not deter us as we were well equipped in our waterproof attire. We love a woodland walk at the best of times, but this has to be one of the loveliest we've had. The circular walk (clearly marked, thus successful this time) took us along a path which followed the river before eventually crossing it and coming back the other side. Torrents of water crashing against protruding rocks made for a very dramatic soundtrack, and as the path occasionally climbed up and back down the slopes of the bank, a very dramatic view, too.

Finally, we found some sand. Much of Exmoor certainly had an air of 'murderous' about it, and the beach at Dunster was no different. Grey expanse, with the tide so far away that even I wasn't going to be walking out to sea, met us as we pulled up to the seafront to park. Soft sand made for great entertainment as Pepper was truly weirded out by the sensation and experience of almost losing her paws, then somehow managing to retrieve them again. We walked some way out to sea, enough to get our feet wet where there were small rock pools, and back again along the sand, through the seaweed. Sea air, salty smells, sleepy all round, we were ready to admit that it was time for home.