Doris's rear end

or the start of Edwin, nobody seems to be able to make their mind up.

It was beautiful on the beach as always, if you ignored the fact that you could lean at 45 degrees into the wind... and then it got stronger.

Two sand blasted dogs decided enough was enough and Jack sodded off and hid behind a rock refusing to move. Eventually I had to put them back on their leads and march them off the beach.

It took a few gins in the pub to get over that experience.