Breaking the waves

Two very tired wee ones were placed in their almost comically small beds this evening.

Small wonder after another brilliant day in the almost-sunshine (a stubborn layer of cloud refusing to break) which meant that we could head for the beach after checking out the charming seaside town, that is Filey. We were up in good time and took a stroll along the seafront before returning to town level and marvelling at the stunning buildings looking out over the sea.

I’d read up on beaches away from the usual tourist-trap areas and found another a couple of miles away. Whilst not deserted, it was quieter than its better known counterpart, which meant a bit of a kick about, fling about (frisbee) and for the wee ones some wave-breaking. I sought their permission to use this one as today’s blip, which was instantly given as we all agreed that we liked the way the water moved around their bodies.

Following a couple of hours at the beach, we sought out an ice cream from Bridlington and returned to our site, whereupon I made a mistake which I only repeat here to ensure that you don’t do the same. Feeling a little devil-may-care, I rented us a family pedal cart. The wee ones sat in the front and The Eldest and I in the rear pedalling and steering. We got in and there followed the most painful 45 minutes of my life as an impromptu spin class began, literally driven by The Eldest and I pedalling two ungrateful oiks (“we’re not going very fast, Daddy.” “Mind that Range Rover, Daddy!” “Why is that man angry with you, Daddy?” “Why are you telling Carmen to pedal faster, Daddy?” around a hilly site. 15 minutes in, thighs burning and drenched in sweat, I panted to the wee ones that we would not be utilising all of our allotted cart hour as we had our swim session to get to.

The one saving grace of the session was the giggling of the wee ones as we built up steam on a downward stretch and bounced over the speed bumps.

To think I was worried about an absence of meaningful exercise this week…