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Oh for the wings
Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Well if that's me holiday I've had it - a few days at the coast which were like bags of 10 pence mix ups only with lots of sweets you didn't like lurking among the sherbert shrimps. The sea is always the sea and that's so brilliant that almost nothing else matters. Loftus was stunning - the path down to the beach is now so fallen away that you have to stride purposefully past those council signs which tell you you're going to die and it's not their fault but written in such complex english you're more likely to die trying to understand the notice. You can still stagger down almost to the beach if you are not too inebriated or off yer heed. Tide really high, waves huge - seagulls finding the bit where the waves swell, sitting there as long as they dare before the surf breaks, then flying off in great swathes before coming down again. You know they are having the greatest time possible and you are filled with envy for that flying ability, that easy movement between the elements. It was so wonderful, scary and magnificent, I was actually laughing my head off just watching, getting soaked by the spray, wishing I was a bird. After that it was pretty much downhill. I'll never learn to pick the right holiday companion. It's a kind of death wish. There should be a big council warning notice on all the blokes I know - not that I'd read it tho, would I? No of course not. Won't be told.
7:10 AM  

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