Sunday saw a group of us drifting along with the driftwood on Druridge Bay. Waves washed the shore as we threw marooned jelly fish back into the shallows. Shells blinked at us from ripples in the sand. Our grainy messages hailed passing helicopters. Fish and chips hailed from Amble!
Les femmes strode out from Monkseaton to Tynemouth Metro station the following day; excited, shrill voiced school children in their last week of term, were carrying out a sponsored walk along the promenade. We watched a lifeguard drill being carried out; it reminded me of a holiday which included a trip to Perranporth to watch lifesaving- did I tell you the thrilling tale of the diamond ring?
A longer walk , from Gosforth to town and return, left my hips telling the tale- that I haven't walked 8 miles in a while! I blame the sheets of rain we have experienced for approximately 8? weeks now.
Yet Sunday was St Swithun's Day- at Druridge we had a dry day so we should get 40 rainfree days.
I was amazed at how much dog excrement there was on the dunes (My last visit to Seaton Sluice saw even more revolting debris)- why is it that owners think if they take their dog to the beach or countryside they do not have to clear up after their pets? Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!
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