Windy day

We are by the sea.

We are at Findhorn.

We thought we might set off home but then we didn’t. We are going to stay here and go home tomorrow, because there is no urgent rush and also because Findhorn Village Hall has a sale on of Himalayan clothes, and I liked some of the tunics. We nearly bought one this afternoon but I do not like rushing into massive expenses without some contemplation first, and by the time I had decided that I was prepared to invest the twenty quid in my own personal loveliness, it had closed, so we will have to go back in the morning.

I do not mind this. It was all very exciting, a bit like the Christmas Markets, only a great deal cheaper, and smelled pleasingly of incense. As far as I can tell, the real Himalayas just smell of burning yak dung, so this was even better than an exotic foreign holiday.

Of course we are having an exotic foreign holiday already. We are in Scotland where they have lots of weird rules and customs, and where the Prime Minister has a name that I don’t quite know how to pronounce.

It has been a very happy day, and one, I might add, which has involved complete financial recklessness already. I can safely say that I can’t remember the last time we were this extravagant.

It started this morning, which was almost this afternoon by the time we got moving. We dragged ourselves out of bed and took the dogs for a long walk through the woods and along the shore. This is one of our favourite things to do, although I can jolly well tell you that the sea gave an exciting zing to the splits on our feet.

We walked for miles, because my foot is almost better now, or at any rate, it was not at all bad. The tide was in and we splashed through the icy water and walked and walked. Scotland is cold, even in the sunshine, but fresh and bright and invigorating, and it felt wonderful to have the salt wind in our faces.

The dogs hurtled about and rolled in rotting seaweed and plunged in and out of the waves and generally were idiots. They have charged about so much today that they are both unconscious now. We tested this by saying Right Then, which usually has both of them leaping to their feet on the chance that we might be about to say Right Then Let’s Go For A Walk, but we said it several times this evening and their ears barely twitched. Rosie is snoring, and seems to have seaweed-flavoured wind.

This does not sound like an expensive activity, the walk, not the wind, obviously, until we got to the far end of the beach and discovered that some rascally profiteer had opened a burger van in the car park. We had not had any breakfast, and so we blew all of Mark’s hidden stash of money, which he keeps in his phone for emergencies, on cheeseburgers with onions. These were very good indeed,  a splendidly fresh-air breakfast, and we even generously gave the dogs a little bit, which might have contributed to Rosie’s wind.

It is not nice wind, I can tell you. I think she might have to sleep under the van.

Fortified, we walked back along the beach, after which we headed to Findhorn, where we visited the hippie village. This never ceases to irritate me because of being an amazing facility which is completely under-used. They have got colossal polytunnels but the tomatoes in the gift shop were from Spain. Most of the polytunnels were empty. Nobody had poultry or geese or anything useful at all, and if I was them I would be using a donkey cart instead of a wheelbarrow.

I like donkeys. They are creatures after my own heart. They are the taxi drivers of the animal kingdom.

Still we ambled around smugly, having a lovely afternoon pointing out all the things we are doing better ourselves at home, and marvelling at our obvious superiority, and then we went on to the beach, where we ate out again, twice in  a day. We had fish and chips in a very nice pub called the Kimberley Arms, and when we had finished it we were so full we could barely move.

We had to have a little break before ordering Mars Bar cheesecake and cream for pudding.

We had a last, short stagger along the beach afterwards. I am very glad to be wearing dungarees, I can tell you. A waistband would not be a good experience at the moment.

We are going to sleep any minute now. It has been the happiest of days.