Strange days off indeed... Sunday night, I drive over to Bournemouth to meet my kids before Tom Perry's funeral the next day. Whilst we sat outside admiring the beautiful evening a motorbike blows up setting the car behind it on fire. The next day I attend the funeral of my son's best friend, there must have been 500 people there most under the age of 26. There are no words to describe the out pouring of grief I felt and observed, as I sat in  the Priory, amidst the tears of a whole generation. I was going to hold a Sumbel ceremony using the mead horn to honour Tom's passing, but instead I left it to my son Jacob. I felt this was their time to be alone with friends, memories and thoughts.
The drive back to Weston was deeply beautiful as I just embraced the glory of the English countryside, and the gift that I was alive to see it.

The next morning Julie and I set off for Lyme Regis on the Jurassic coast. We arrived very early, as I always plan to leave for a journey at the crack of dawn, and decided to get some breakfast, we found a cute little cafe right on the seafront. Julie ordered poached eggs and me the crab chowder.... It was bloody expensive and absolutely horrible, I renamed my slop " Crab Chunda" because that is exactly what it looked like. We retired to find a space on the beach.
I took Ju's advice and avoided the soft white sand for the wet sand at the shoreline, this would keep us cooler as the temperatures soared, she was right but it was as hard as bloody concrete. We ventured into the sea, it was cold, bracing but utterly invigorating. I properly swam in the crashing wavers
 ( The first time in 12 years) then lay in the warm, warm sun until I was dry.

As lunch approached I wasn't filled with confidence about our prospects, after the trauma of breakfast I was a little weary, I need not have the small homemade pizzas we found down a side street were excellent, followed by a pint of prawns ,I was a happy camper once more. Jules got me some really nice Flip-Flops, but I had never been fond of the toe jamming post , hey I was at the beach.
We returned to our pitch, where I had a snooze, under our newly purchased umbrella and Julie went for another swim.

I woke maybe thirty minutes later and thought I would join Ju in the waves. Up and down I searched the shallows, then back again a little bit deeper ( Julie is a total mermaid and loves the water, especially the blue water that I could see further out)  The sea was packed with tourists and locals alike, there were a few bobbing heads even further out which I was sure one would be her, then wallop! I stubbed my middle toe on a jagged rock, if this had happened on dry land, I would of hit the deck and screamed like a banshee, but instead I gritted my teeth and hobbled my way back to the shallows and finally dropped on my towel.

Julie arrived back some time after and told me that she didn't go for a swim but decided to walk along the beach instead. I am at that funny stage in a relationship, where it is so good and wonderful that it seems to cause me anxiety to be without her for a few minutes, If I had only been patient and waited my foot would still be OK ...Odin had a little lesson for me, or my poor toe.

By 4pm we were done with the sun and headed out of town to a campsite where we could park the Bongo and stay the night. We got set up and we headed down to the shower block to wash off all the days sand... You know that shower, freezing cold or scolding hot, I chose ice water as it seemed more refreshing. As I hopped about washing myself as quick as possible, a huge hairy black spider dropped from the ceiling above right  at my feet. I kicked out with my foot sending the beast scurrying under the door and me stubbing my toe once more on the shower frame. By now it felt like a cartoony red throbbing toe, throb, throb, throb.

There was no way I could get any shoes on, so I resorted back to the toe jamming flip flops and we set out down an extremely steep hill to the pub at the bottom for our evening meal. My god this hill was steep adding extra jamming effect into the already toe jamming flops. Finally we made it to the pub and I could stuff my face with fish and chips... WHAT! No food on Tuesdays.

We asked a local who advised us to take the mile and a half country walk into Lyme Regis. I remember my bruised toe looking up at me and saying "Are you sure"
Never the less we set out on our mini expedition, this was one of the most trippy, rocky, wonky paths I have been on, my toe was killing me and I moaned like a bitch the whole time. Julie on the other hand enjoyed the beautiful evening, the flowers, the butterflies, the wondrous idyllic  river side cottages and old mills. But even she noticed the sign posts.... Lyme Regis 1 1/2 miles, we walked for twenty mins or so, another sign Lyme Regis 1 1/2 miles, another twenty minutes another sign, the same bloody distance to go. By this time, my toe throbbing seemed insignificant compared with the weeping red crack between my toes.

We finally made the town some hour and a half later and I got my Fish and Chips and the world seemed right again but there was no way I was walking the mile and a half home. So we got a taxi and you know what, I slept like a baby.

 The Wednesday plan was to check out Bridport as we had reliably heard from friends it was a cool place. Just as we arrived at our new destination A Creperie Cart blows up and set two cars on fire, parts of the town are cordoned off for safety... Up and til this point in my life I have seen maybe three things blow up, now five things in two days mmmmmm.

The nearest beach was West Bay so that is where we headed next, this is where the toe story takes on a whole new dimension. We find a nice parking space close to the beach, we cant actually see the sea as there is a huge sand dune in front of us. so on go the flip flops one more time and we head off. What we thought was a sand dune is actually a dune of roasting hot rice crispy size pebbles heaped in a mountainous pile between us and the cool crashing waves.
Julie starts to laugh as my feet sink into the pebbles and I loose my grip, finally ending up on my hands and knees, three steps forwards two sliding back

I was getting nowhere fast, I felt like I was in the French Foreign Legion crawling my way across the desert or the Dorset Coastline. I finally had a brain wave and stepped all fours onto my towel and used it like magic carpet to waddle my way to the beach. Obviously this would have been so much easier if I didn't have a smacked up toe.

Julie went for her usual swim and I lay back in the surprising comfy rice crispies, it was so bloody hot, I finally had to say "I am done, let's go home". Just as we got in,   I had back to back hour readings, it was like Odin knew, that's enough fun, time to be home there is work to be done.