Oh I do like to be beside the seaside...

Big news....I have walked the equivalent of a marathon this week...TWICE.

Today was labeled a 'rest day' by the husband, which basically meant getting in the car and driving somewhere and then walking.  'Let's go to Polzeath', I suggested with a view to doing the coastal path walk from Polzeath beach to The Rumps.  Apparently, seals sometimes sunbathe on this part of the coastline and I was keen to take a few photos of them applying the factor 20 while reading a tacky magazine and necking a can of Thatchers (you can tell what my holidays are like from this).

So.  To the coastal path.  As you may have guessed from my bit about Lydford Gorge, I'm not especially confident where narrow paths and sheer drops are concerned.  Why I ever suggested doing this coastal path is beyond me as there were plenty of both.  But you know, the husband is great at giving me the confidence to do these things, so we set off from the beach (after the obligatory vittals) with the plan of seeing the seals.

                                           

Two miles in, I was getting slightly fed up of cliff hugging.  This is walking as close to the side of the path as possible, and never looking over the side of the cliff (despite the husband shouting at me, 'Look at that view', every five minutes. I also needed to stop for a middle aged lady comfort break.  And here's the thing about coastal walks.  No trees or handy alcoves where a girl can nip in unseen.  The other issue was that there were a lot of people doing the same walk as us, most of which were carrying a pair of binoculars.  The last thing I wanted was for some poor soul to home in on me and see me in glorious technicolour crouched down next to a dry stone wall.  So I kept quiet and kept walking.

                    

Finally, The Rumps were in sight,and I geared myself up for the odd seal of two after another half a mile.

Stopping a couple walking towards us, I asked them whether the rocks ahead were in fact The Rumps (with no ordnance survey map, it was complete guesswork for us).  'Yes, that's the Rumps, but don't bother going down if you want to see the seals as they're not there'.

Oh great.

So we turned round, and set out back to Polzeath where the car was abandoned.  'I'm sorry we didn't get to actually see The Rumps', I said to the husband, as I did a passable impression of a crab, sidestepping down the steep paths looking at nothing but granite and dried grass,

'That's alright', he replied.  'And anyway, I did get to see them'.

Looking back at him with a questioning look, he expanded with..

'I've been following yours quite happily for the last five miles'....

Just as well he bought me a Mr Whippy once we got back to the beach...

And a cup of tea when we returned back to the Wobble Box...

And a pizza...

And a piece of Bakewell Tart...

He knows when he's crossed the line...