Originally, we wanted to spend the day on the beach. We packed a picnic and a bottle of water, swimwear and a couple of towels, and off we went.
We got there just after high tide, and the dryest sand was damp. Damp sand never stopped us before so we sat down and ‘set up camp’. I paddled a bit, and DB stared at the waves a bit. I looked for green stones in the black sand, and DB lay back and let the sunrays dance on his stomach.
It didn’t take long before the wind came to join us, shortly followed by his friends fog and rain. The sun decided the beach was too crowded, and disappeared.
Not long after that, we were back in the car and the beach party continued without us.
Instead of a day at the beach, we spent the day driving round the north of the island.
The map promised us scenic roads, with views across the valleys, the fog presented us with a view most tourists will never see – the island is not known for its fog. If we’d painted the car windows white, it wouldn’t have changed much.
At the most northern point, we parked with the intention of finding a café. We took three steps away from the car and three hurried steps back again.
Despite all our organisation, we had no jumpers with us, (well, nothing substantial, I almost always have a long-sleeved-something with me) and the combination of wind, fog and drizzle wasn’t really all that inviting, especially as all the cafés had open fronts, so we abandoned that idea too.
It’s a good thing our apartment has a kettle!!