St. Andrews

Picnic season is abound. And the Easter break; a week of relentless child entertainment commences.

St. Andrews is a kind of no-brainer for picnics. Sand and sandwiches work together in a gruesome gritty combination that is unbeatable. So it came to be that on our first day of holibags we travelled the 20 or so miles to the stretch of sand known as the West Sands Beach, even though it faces East. The tide was out and the sand sailors were in full flight as we arrived. The wind was blowing fierce and the white horses were galloping strong. But crucially the sky was blue, so the sun managed to radiate itself into the car as we ate our well-fired rolls and supped our roasting hot flask tea. Then it was onto the beach for some wandering.

Oh boy it was cold. The wind seemed supercharged with ice as it blew into our faces and chilled our ears. I had my beautiful yet painful still super jacket on and it was amazing – no wind got through this bad boy. I put my hood up and my ears were thankful. As we wandered along the hard packed sand, the girls went looking for shells and I set about looking for shots. It’s quite hard to get anything interesting on a long, thin stretch of sand with a wide-angle lens, but I managed to get some I liked whilst meandering through the swathe of thoughts about work and plans and design challenges I faced. Nearby at the local Leuchars Station, training Hawks were looping around and shooting overhead. It was nice to see some action from the place where our Airshows boomed for so long, and now rest forever peaceful.

Before long we had reached quite a distance, so opted to head back to the car, where Missy announced she needed a pee urgently. Bare bums frozen in the wind. We got back to the car, packed ourselves up and set off home. Before long the girls had succumbed to Carcolepsy and I was once more alone with my thoughts.

It’s amazing how much internal conversation you can cover without the bickering of two red-heads. A good day was had by all.

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