I have not been to an actual sand, sun, surf beach for about 15 years. You know the type, where there are wind-breakers, castles made from soggy sand with shells & pebbles for decoration, the happy screams of young folk and the peaceful dozing of the old.
Enter the Hunstanton coast line in Norfolk and a very warm Tuesday.
The only time I have been to Norfolk was many, many moons ago on a boating holiday and the amusement arcade frontage of Gt. Yarmouth.
Hunstanton Beach was pretty much all sand. And the sea goes out for miles whilst leaving a wonderful shallow area to faff about in.
Due to it's ankle - waist depth and the sun shine a-shining - the water was pretty warm. I wish I had known - I would have packed something waterproof and gone in proper. To hell with the hair do.
It even tempted the renowned wet-foot-phobic - The Beard. He rolled up his jeans and protected his bonce with a trusty flat cap. Jokes were made about a knotted hanky. Oh, how we laughed.
The sea was so clear and bath-water warm that I ended up going out pretty far. Until my knickers were soaked by a rather large swell. Which made me feel like I had actually had some sort of downstairs accident.
But. I didn't care, in part because I saw a jelly fish! Puffing itself in and out it's only little prehistoic world. Unfortunatly, this little stinger did scare The Beard back to the saftey of the shore.
We then loafed about - The Beard being one of the aforementioned old folk and having a doze, whilst I read and looked at the brilliant blue sky and adjusted my soggy arse sunwards to dry off.
And all too soon, it was time to head back through the dunes with their rough grasses and picturesque beach cabins, and off to a local pub.
I shall not be leaving it so long until I next visit a beautiful beach such as this. And I shall be taking my cosie.
Wet underwear rocks not.