. . . and so that's where I'm going today! To be precise, to Chesil Beach at Burton Bradstock and I could return with a pet dinosaur because the cliffs along this stretch of coast are, apparently, stuffed full of the remains of pre-historic creatures, hence its other title, The Jurassic Coast. Burton Bradstock is a small village but on the beach is a very ordinary, un-posh restaurant which serves terrific, mainly sea, food. The lobsters are enough to send the 'Memsahib' into such paroxysms of pleasure the like of which I have never seen at any other time in our marriage - yeeeeeeees, quite!
It is a perfect sunny, Autumnal day today and through a mixture of old-age and idleness we haven't been down there for ages so we are both rather excited at the prospect. Another good thing about Chesil Beach is that it is pebbled, not sandy, and that reduces the number of 'kiddie-winkies' enormously - need I say more?! Of course, as I slump there in my deck-chair, I will be working out yet another concise, analytical report on exactly where the world is going wrong which I will publish later, you see, I really am the blogger who never stops giving - and I heard that!
ADDITIONAL: I have returned safely from my dangerous trip to the English seaside. Mind you, as per usual, I have a 'yuuuuuuuuuge' lump on my back where all my goose pimples huddled together for warmth! The sun shone from an almost cloudless sky but, as usual, that bloody sea always whips up a really nippy breeze to freeze the 'wotsits' of an old landlubber like me. You bloody sailors must be mad to go anywhere near all that water!
Anyway, after a while the 'Memsahib' got fed up with all my whingeing and so we took shelter inside The Hive Café (you can see it in some of the photos in the link I provided above). Needless to say it was packed because people come from miles away to eat there, in fact it was a London friend of mine who recommended it, telling me that he and his other half would often motor down to Chesil Beach just to lunch there.
So far so good but then another 'yuuuuuuuuuuge' problem! I had forgotten that in the village of Abbotsbury through which we drive, there is a very smart, posh gift shop which again we haven't visited for years. Needless to say, the 'Memsahib' . . . well, need I say more, the ending is obvious - and expensive!
But, a great day out and all the better because we hadn't gone down there in years and it was good to be reminded of what we had missed. I will now take, what we used to call in the Army, 'a short course in death'!