Crisp my aged companion looked wistfully down onto the beach. She had her favourite puffer jacket on as there was a biting wind blowing in off the water.
“Seems a shame to call it a beach,” she said, “what with it being so cold it’d freeze the walls off a bark humpy.”
It only took a few minutes for my teeth to begin chattering. “Seen enough?” I asked, taking a step away.
“Crazy isn’t it,” she said, ”the sun is shining, not a cloud in the sky and as cold as charity.”
“Those people down there walking on the beach must be hardy types,” she observed.
“Probably locals thinking this is a warm day,” I replied.
“No sense some people,” said Crisp taking my arm and leading me towards the café at the end of the path.