Photographer Down! Photographer Down!

No room for lie-ins today, no matter the protests. I promised rockpools. That usually works. But not today. Their beds were too comfy, their legs too achy. So I promised cake, maybe nothing but cake, all day. That seemed to work.

To the South! Just a wee bit. Don't want to get carried away. First stop straight to the Montrose basin, to get wildlifed up at the Scottish Wildlife Trust centre. There were proper bird folk there. I mean dead proper. The ones that look like retired Bill Odies in 70's safari suits, camo hats and open toed sandals (both genders, since you asked) that you need to keep in view at all times. For safety. I was momentarily distracted from their secret world by sight of a Kingfisher. Peak excitement all round the centre. Time to move on.

After an unscheduled detour for petrol, where Dave re-entered our company after paying by doing a Starsky and Hutch bonnet roll ending with a wink and thumbs up, it was time to compose ourselves from fits of laughter and put our eyes on the prize. To the place I see every time from the train when I'm travelling for some work event. I see the wide sweeping sands, the mysterious name, the tiny spots walking along the sands with four legged friends and the old ruined castle and I scream inside that I'd rather be walking on that beach than be sitting on that train. You'd have the best job in the world and still long to pull the emergency cord and jump off into the sands. I have always longed to visit Lunan Bay and today we did.

First stop, Lunan Bay diner, Dave happy, burgers galore on the menu. And a toilet. And goats. Bonus. Fortified with food we headed to the beach, it's a beauty, a hidden wee gem. Massive expanse of sand and sea, especially when the tides out. If it was good enough for Robert the Bruce, it's good enough for me. Shoes off, treading the waves, along to the cliffs where we see the door to Mordor in the cliff face. We think so anyway. And we see two Kestrels fighting, a peregrine swooping past, sea birds nesting and a-courting on the cliff ledges and rockpools that look man made they are so perfectly wee, round, clear and full of life. Tess does cartwheels and head stands, Sam and Dave takes photos of bugs, beasts and winged creatures.

We accidently spent hours there, so much so, it led to an emergency cake situation. So it was up just north of Montrose to the fruit farm, for cakes and strawberry punnets. Weird place. But I was not done with them yet. Final stop St Cyrus Nature Reserve, drift wood central. Another gorgeous sweeping beach dunes full of weird and wonderful beast and bugs. So it was sand sculpture time for Sam and Tess while Dave got up close and personal with the sand, sea and driftwood.

Meanwhile, at home, my new wetsuit had been delivered. Trying it on was like squeezing a laden sausage with two large killer bee stings into a body bag. But I got the bloody thing on in the end. Another alternative to that awful spanx ladies.... that is if you don't mind squeaking when you walk or striding around like a constipated batman.

I have promised them a lie in tomorrow.