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A leisurely morning followed by lunch and then Mr K suggested a drive out to somewhere we hadn't been before and a tunnel to a beach was promised.
At least an hour later, having passed more sweaty, lycra clad men (there were a couple of women, but let's face it, take a look at the distance and the expected time, do the maths and most sane people will say "you know what?  You do you, me and my bicycle will sit by the pool today") than ever (and did I mention yesterday was Ironman day here?) we arrived.  Yes there was a tunnel to the beach, it was a stony, pebbly beach, lots of people doing Instagramable shots and boats in the tiny cove.  Apparently it's a Unesco world heritage thingy - I bet the many goats live well off of that.