My kids (aged five and seven) don’t know what a hot summer is like, so this heatwave is extra exciting.
I moved back to Cornwall 10 years ago – after feeling stranded inland for way too long – so I could go to the beach after work. Rarely has this happened, either because of lack of time or lack of weather.
Standard beach trips usually mean taking several layers of clothing and a windbreak. We don’t ever admit it, but often it’s not even pleasant. It’s simply a case of toughing it out as either the wind picks up, a massive cloud obscures the sun, a sea fret rolls in or it starts to rain. Swimming without a wetsuit is unheard of.
Now we’ve got a Med-style climate I can’t bear being inside working. Neither do I want to waste time food shopping, cooking, or doing housework, supervising the kids’ homework or taking them to any of their clubs. Even riding the pony is less appealing than jumping in the sea, which is no longer so cold that it takes your breath away.
All I want to do is beach and mentally I’m giving myself weekly targets. Last week I swam four times in the sea. Good. So far this week none, but after today there is nothing stopping me, so please, please, please hang around sun.