Having spent the first day of this holiday quite resolutely landlocked, it was high time, by day two, to head to the seaside. After all, I had, by this point, been away from the shore for upwards of thirty-six hours and, on the off-chance that I may get whatever is the polar opposite of seasick, I felt it prudent, when planning this holiday, to hurry back to more watery surroundings on day two, just in case the lack of water on day one caused any distress.
Of course, what I should have remembered was that, whilst I may have grown accustomed to the sea over the nigh-on fifteen years since I shuffled to within a few feet thereof, it’s by no means my natural habitat and, the first eighteen years of my life having been spent, for the most part, landlocked and really not all that fussed about it, the occasion of my venturing a significant distance from the shores of this august isle was unlikely to engender much by way of emotional disquiet. Still, why take the risk, eh? Continue reading