I woke up with a decided plan in my head – to go to the beach in the campervan, then visit Son #3 for a while. In other words a day off with no thoughts of housework or washing. Guess what? It started to rain come half past eleven. However, you know the famous adage of Magnus Magnusson, of Mastermind, I’ve started so I’ll finish . . . . . . . . That is where a motorhome scores in spades, picnics in the dry no matter the weather.
We parked up at Ganavan and put the kettle on – the rain came steadily down, but then one brave dog-walker appeared complete with wellie boots, big umbrella and waterproof plus two energetic dogs. True to form, they disappeared over the hill. The next dog owner to appear looked less energetic. He stood on the boat slip and waved at his dog. She was a smooth-coated cross between a greyhound and something else – maybe even a staffie – Oh my goodness could she run. For at least twenty minutes, she ranged back and forth across the sandy beach, in and out of the sea, chasing seagulls and barking all the time. I am convinced the gulls were playing the game as well. It was like watching a dog-ballet. At the end the owner waved her in and got back in his car.
And yes, our little Misty got her own walk after than. A bit less frenetic, but plenty of attitude of course.