H. loves the sea, she lived in Cornwall, had her own boat, surfed, rode horses, in fact I think her childhood was pretty much like a Famous Five adventure. Including the lashings of ginger beer.
Now she does not enjoy good health, the years take their toll on all of us, and that can be hard for someone who has always been active. Hard and frustrating. That's why I try to get her to join me for a little adventure whenever I can. I think that having fun, getting out and playing like kids, is good for us both.
Today she drove us to the coast, through Lannion, ignoring the signs to Trégastek, through Perros Guirec, ignoring the attractions there, and on to the beach at Trestraou.
I'd promied myself a cheese burger and fries: as with the kouign amann at Trégastel, I only eat cheese burger and fries at the restaurant at Trestraou, but the walk from the car was tough for H. and I became anxious and so we halted at the first restaurant.
It wasn't a good choice. Lesson learned. No shortcuts in future.
While we ate, the beautiful blue skies and sunshine were wiped out, leaving a grey fog in their place.
Who stole the sea?
After lunch we set off for the boat.
The beach was busy, there were teenagers playing volleyball on a temporary court without a net...
and younger kids learning to sail, and kayak, and paddleboard and, well, all possible variations of things to do on the sea...
When we reached the reception area for the boat trip the news was not promising...
We would have to wait to see if the sea mist lifted before the boat captain would decide whether it was worth sailing to the islands. After an hour our trip was called off. Never mind, I told H. We don't want to go out with such limited visibility, we wouldn't see the pink granite coastline, we wouldn't see the pink castle, we should try again next week...
So, back to the car with several stops to rest and to admire the sailboats that we could just see through the mist. And, and this I found very moving, to witness someone in an electric wheelchair, completely wrapped and with an oxygen cylinder strapped on the back and a drip and line disappearing under the covers, accompanied by three attendants, slowly trundling along the path by the sea.
I told H. that I'd like to be able to do that when I am nearing the end of my life: have the Rags drive me to Tregastel for a last 'walk' along the beach and a last swim in the sea. Well, maybe not a swim but they could sit me on a rock so that I could dip my toes in the water.
So we did not see the puffins. Not this time.
We drove to Trégastel where even the pink castle was shrouded in mist.
I walked as far as I could, I climbed over the rocks and I still couldn't see it.
So I walked the length of the beach and collected all of the plastic rubbish that I could find: lengths of blue plastic string, a couple of empty nappy bags, some fishing net, odds and ends, all of which take around 400 years to break down and which will, eventually, end up in the stomachs and gills and meat of sea creatures. Which is why I collect it and dispose of all that I find on the beach.
And then home.
I don't know about H, but I am exhausted. In a very good way.
(O)
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