High Tide

... and almost high embarrassment!

The first day of a little midweek excursion to Northumberland with E, staying at Alnmouth, off the grid, in this little cabin. It felt like the perfect time to decompress and tune out the rest of the world. I'm certainly helped by refusing to get a smartphone, but it's still all too easy to get distracted by online noise and dismayed by the endless bad news cycle. Writing requires focus and I've been finding it harder and harder to concentrate lately. 

The idea was to make the most of the outdoors if the weather was good and make the most of the indoor cosiness if it wasn't. As it turned out, we spent most of our time outside. It was nothing like as warm as we heard it was down south, actually verging on the positively cool up this far north, but there was plenty of sunshine on this first day. Layers were required.

Walking to Seaton Beach for E to have a swim, and for me to have a write, we took the coast path (that passes in front of our luxury cabin) and found it taking us pretty much right through the clubhouse of the local golf course. Checking we hadn't messed up with a few guys having a beer, we enjoyed a bit of banter and then, just as we walked on. I was compelled to turn around and take another look at one of them. I was sure I knew who it was but was mortified not to be able to recall his name. It had been quite a few years since I'd last seen him on television and a good many since his heyday.

I bought some time. 'Should I recognise you?'
'Possibly,' he said.
And then, thank God, his name popped into my head. 'Jonathan.'

He nodded and I then felt able to ask if I could take his picture. I was able to thank him for all the pleasure he'd given me over the years. I'm out of touch with track and field athletics these days and only found out when I got home that he still holds the world record for the triple jump. He set it over 25 years ago (watch here) and that jump has never been surpassed since. Astonishing. He still has the same smile.