Beach Rage

Picture the scene. We arrive on the beach just after 10am and strike camp. We chose a spot where we can watch the kids paddling while we sit in deckchairs guzzling tea from a hot flask. The boys build a huge sandcastle. I even ventured into the sea for a brief dip with some of the children. The sandcastle becomes more of a small island. We have lunch, more paddling, more digging. Three and a half hours pass.


Then some utter twunts roll up, ignore the pretty much deserted beach and settle down right in front of us some 60 centimetres from the end of the sandcastle.

I was utterly enraged and had to go to the zoo instead.