Mary had a plan for Saturday involving an early run and NOT involving me. Sometimes (says she) I can be a downer when I'm complaining about how shite the weather is and she is trying to bust a gut and I am sauntering alongside not taking her mojo into account. Oh dear! Then the sun came out literally and metaphorically. I am apparently allowed out the care home when the weather is bright and shiny because I am better company. So the Bag for Life brings me a cup of tea earlyish and says we're going to Gullane! Hurray!
After getting stoked up at Falko's we park the van in the car park and head towards the beach. (Quick critique of Falko's: they regularly forget to stir the coffee properly. 80% of cup bitter then 20% too sweet. Note to self, must put spoon in van. Had to use a leg of sunglasses!) There is a strong wind blowing and if we run to Aberlady into it we can cruise back with it behind. Then have a quick dip before rushing home. (I have chores for later.)
The tide, like the sun, is out and although we get a battering from the wind we are both high on coffee and shouting like maniacs. At one point on the beach Mary suggests we do shouty therapy; holler at the top of our lungs into the wind. I start to scream louder and louder wondering which I will hurt/burst first; my ears or my throat. It doesn't absolutely disperse the tensions of the week but is quite good fun and there is nobody around for miles. I think the forecast has kept folk indoors and the reality, the outside, is bordering on glorious. (The walkers though are wrapped up in duffle coats and hoods.)
All this to ourselves!
Shortly after the subs M suggests we turn around. It's only 2.5 miles but time is slipping away and the first half was slow into the strong wind. I am looking forward to the swim (not sure why!) so am happy to turn around. Then as we start back it's like a giant invisible hand on your back and it is harder to resist the urge to gallop than to just go with it. A mystical carpet of moving sand flows like fog at ankle depth. We are going at twice the speed we came along here and Mary's hair has a life of it's own. Yeeeahah!
little lost lamb
So we now are using the waterproof camera. Which is impervious to immersion but not quite such good quality photos. I had to sepia the image below because it had my skin tone as a lively orange. I quite like the singular golden slipper above and the lost lamb both taken by Mary. The water wasn't bad at all. I took the scuba mask but forgot the snorkel. Just a wee dip anyway as I had to get back. But pleasant enough and nice to be back doing swimming. No heroics, just a bit along the beach and back. The winter gloves and hood were probably overkill and it felt clumsy swimming in massive thick rubber gloves. One small crab the only wildlife but this is the downside of getting in right there in the bare sandy bit at the front and not walking along to where the rocks and seaweed is awash with fascinating creatures all anxious to make the video.
Love the way the camera can't be bothered to paint an accurate sky and just does a felt pen job. That'll cover it.
Mary smoothly glides through the water.
This is my burns victim mask with pink sausage forehead.
Mary says if there is one of her looking daft there has to be one of me as well.
Swimming goggles next time.