Hartland Quay, North Devon. I told everyone to expect sun, rain, ferocious Atlantic winds, mud, salt spray. And to round it all off at 1pm … delicious hot soup from the hotel.
As it turned out, I got everything (except the soup) wrong – including misreading the Tide Table as high tide instead of low tide! We discovered a pristine and almost deserted sandy beach, protected by dramatic cliffs. And the wind had veered to the east, blowing gently from inland rather than from across the Atlantic. It was so mild, I just lounged about on the rocks with no coat on, taking the occasional photograph. Nothing like a good hearty walk, I thought, to get the blood circulating and work up an appetite!