I was first on the beach this morning at about 5.30am. No other footprints in the sand, which had been washed flat by the tide. The beach was mine and my dog's. She didn't seem that impressed, but this morning was special, clear views from Hartland Point to Baggy. A container vessel lumbered its way the landward side of Lundy. All this under a sky laden with lilac, purple and pink clouds and the occasional patch of clear blue. What's that line in one of the songs on Quadrophenia by The Who? 'A beach is a place where a man feel/ He's the only soul in the world who's real.' That was me, but, obviously, not my dog.
So we walked along the beach and then headed down to the water's edge. The sea was whisper quiet and as I approached I decided a paddle was in order. Shoes and socks off, and carry on walking towards the water. It was then I formed the idea of going for a swim. Strip off and run headlong into the sea. Nobody was around, who would know? Skinny-dipping is the best way to swim, although not something you can do easily all the time. To swim in crystal clear sea (not round here, then) with the hot sun beating down (definitely not round here) is an almost transcendental experience. To appreciate the difference swimming without any clothing makes, try taking a bath in your underwear. Trust me on this. Anyway there I was, shoes and socks off gearing up for a daring dip when the first ripples of the sea washed around my ankles. God's teeth, it was cold. The dog ran in, but I decided a cup of coffee was in order.
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