Today we were crazy Brits and hired a beach hut. We booked it weeks and weeks ago, so had no idea what the weather was going to be like, but thankfully we awoke to blue skies and sun. Still, we did have to wear at least five layers each and wrap scarves around our heads, but we were determined to enjoy ourselves, so a mild chill was not going to get in our way.
We arrived at the beach hut in the morning, armed with blankets, books, and plenty of tea bags. I was very much looking forward to a day of relaxing by the beach and getting stuck into my book. Classic us, after about 10 minutes, Mum and I were restless, so headed off on a stomp down the beach. Somehow, we ended up walking pretty much the entirety of yesterday’s walk, so apparently the epic hike through the wind and the rain was not quite so epic.
By mid-afternoon, the sun was fading and we decided that it was acceptable to crack open the tins of G&T. My Dad heroically made the 4 minute journey back to the cottage to get some ice, so we were actually incredibly civilised. But obvs I needed a photo before anyone could as much as take a sip.
As soon as we’d taken our last gulp of G&T, we quickly packed everything away and headed back towards the warmth, as the gins weren’t quite strong enough to provide alcohol jackets. We had braved the cold (and the bemused looks from passers by) for long enough. Turns out we could have stayed in our beach hut until 8pm. Lol, that’s the time now, and I’m already in my pyjamas.
The evening was lovely. We went to the pub as soon as it was socially acceptable and played ‘Pass the Pigs’, which will probably never be socially acceptable. Now we’re back at the cottage, slightly tipsy and ready for bed. Sadly, it is (still) only 8pm.