Sunday and I am up early and sitting on the patio reading Atom. I sip coffee, nibble an apple and take my drugs including my pre jab paracetamol. The sun is up and warm even this early as I read the story of how the atom was explored and how mystified we still are about what an atom really is, if there is a “really is” as the contemporary theories suggest something far more surreal and philosophically more demanding. I am left in peace for a couple of hours before the rest of the family get up and have breakfast. I spend all morning reading and I am left wondering about the hypothesis that there is something in the nature of energy that moves towards life. It takes billions of years but move towards it, it appears to do.

I finish the book and have some ponder time. Then I am on to “Why beautiful people have more daughters” by Alan Miller and Satoshi Kanazawa. Its an evolutionary psychology book that suggests an explanation of “human nature” that is based strongly in the Savanna Principle. It is a challenging book that suggests that as humans there are such things as human nature and that culture is an environmental adaptation, and that there are no different cultures only “culture”. I was fascinated by some of the accounts of how some of the so called cross cultural “discoveries” were in fact nothing of the sort. My favourite was the way Margret Meade bodged some results from a single interview of two young women because she had not done the work she should have done. The two girls interviewed admitted in their later years that they made up what they told her in the interview because they were embarrassed by the nature of the questions about relationships, boys and sex. I just love it when history turns up a totally different account of something that was taken as gospel at the time. I read through the afternoon swapping the patio for the swing seat and only break for WhatsApp messages and snacks. All read out I sort out my pill box for the week and adjust the Tesco order for tomorrow as I watch Lewis Hamilton win the British Grand Prix. We eat dinner and I retreat in doors to write the blog and get ready to watch Baptiste. Tonight will be an early night as I am going for my 28 day jab early in the morning. I am just hoping that it is the new nurse who is on duty.

Saturday and I am awake at 6 o’clock, coffee and half a bagel adn we are packing the car for the return journey. By 7:26 we are rolling from the sunny shores of Westwood Ho! Just out side Bideford we stop to top up the tank and check the tyres. First blast takes us to Bristol where we have a rapid pee break and then head north again. The traffic is flowing nicely, which is more than can be said for the south bound carriage way. We keep on until home having consumed one scone and half a bag of wine gums to sustain me. Home at just gone 11:30, a real good journey.

I unpack straight away and get my washing into the machine and the rest of my stuff put away. I get a drink and settle down to watch the rugby league final, half time is hang the washing out time. At the end of the game I gird up my loins and get the lawn mower out. I cut the grass back and front. I then took time out to take pictures of the flowers that have come out while I’ve been a way. Once again the garden is bountiful in its gifts.

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What can I say other than wow, nature does it again. We dinner outside and I return inside to write the blog before getting my washing in. I shall be having an early night as I can feel tiredness creeping up on me and tomorrow I start to take prophylactic paracetamol to offset the reaction that I get to my 28 day injection on Monday. But it is a joy to return to my home Wi Fi, the speed is so much better than when on holiday.

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Friday. The WiFi has failed completely now so this is being done on my phone. Short and sweet today. Breakfast, a lazy morning and a cream tea at noon.

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We return to the apartment to rest and prepare to walk off the calorie over load. The afternoon walk sees us up and down the beach to complete our 10,000 steps. We take another rest during which time I pack. More resting before an evening sea side fish and chips finished off with an ice cream van strawberry cornet. As the sun goes down I wrestle with the WiFi and lose. Hence the phone bodge today.

Thursday and I am up early to download yesterday evenings photos, The WiFi here is very slow so it takes ages to download them. The sea at high tide here makes it difficult to believe that the beach is so vast as it comes right up to the pebble ridge. I would add that the pebble ridge is a natural phenomena,the pebbles having been rolled smooth by the sea over eons. Originally the rock was part of the local cliffs and are over 300 million years old. The cliffs around the bay still have bands of the rock in them. Amazing what evolutionary time can manage to do.

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Our meal yesterday evening was pleasant enough. Our table was served by masked waitresses and fitted with a perspex end divider, while the windows were open to give ventilation. The dining was adequate and basic English but came with the great benefit of us having no effort to prepare it. A slow walk back to the apartment in time to watch the final episode of a documentary about an Irish mule who got caught in Peru and did time in one of their prisons. And so to bed, the hard mattress and the reminder that we need to do something about the squidgy thing back home.

Thursday continues all coffee. Its a late breakfast as the sun shines and we make our usual pilgrimage to the co-op for the papers and some food. We laze over the papers. I am not sure it is good for me as the news seems either ridden with tragedy or a chaotic mixture of conflicting agendas based on very few facts. I have more coffee and do the cross words. Gratifyingly one of todays articles suggested that doing crosswords fought 0ff Alzheimer’s, however that’s sod all use to me given my diagnosis. At about two o’clock we go out to walk. We follow the burrows path to the new cafe, which is only partially functional but does have ice cram and cans of coke. Thankfully it also has really good toilets. We walk back along the beach barefooted noticing the increase in jelly fish that are appearing on the beach. The sun is he brightest its been all week. Back at the apartment we eat cheese rolls and grapes and read a little. I fall asleep on the sofa noting as I doze off that my partner has already fallen asleep on the other sofa. Its 7 o’clock before we wake and prepare tea. So we watch a little TV but it is very dissatisfying so we go for an evening stroll on the promenade as the sun sets spectacularly over the sea. Our walk completes our step count for the day. Back at the apartment we flop onto sofas and eat strawberries before heading for bed.

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Wednesday. I am once again up early and downloading yesterdays photos. The above was a complete surprise as we looked for postcards. It sits atop the post box, brilliant piece of street art and community thoughtfulness.

The morning drifts by with breakfast followed by a trip to the shops to buy postcards,papers and Eccles cakes, all of which we consume during the morning. I discovered that the power socket that I had the laptop plugged into does not work. Bit of a blow as my battery was all but dead. Happily it sprung back to life once plugged into a new socket. So lunchtime comes around and we are off out into the sunshine. We walk the beach (sounds like a Johnny Cash song tittle), and find a spot to sit and read for a while. I settle into Atom.

Its quite interesting but a fairly standard account of the people involved. Marie Currie turns out to be a feisty one. After a while sitting on a towel on a lovely beach I become aware of the dampness of my arse as the water soaks though the towel, we move. The thing about prostate cancer is that prolonged walks can be tricky. Sometimes all is well but at other times its not so good and one can be found googling the nearest convenience. We wander, at a good pace, back towards the boat slope and change back into shoes to return to the apartment. I write postcards as my partner makes rolls for a late lunch. The cards are taken to the post box. If the notice on the box is to be believed we have just arrived two minutes before the collection is due. This is of course is the kiss of doom and means that we will get home before the cards arrive. Back at the apartment I laze, order flowers for a family members birthday and update the blog. Tonight we have a table booked at a restaurant. I’ve checked the menu, its basic English fayre so it will be a pig out rather than a refined dining experience. This calls for an elasticated waste band and a voluminous ice hockey jersey, something to accommodate the full belly and can be easily got out of at the end of the evening before collapsing into bed.

Tuesday. I start the day quietly on the sofa listening to the sea and downloading photos of yesterdays walks as the WiFi seems to have recovered.

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The sun appears , as does my partner and so the day begins but not before I read some Pablo Neruda. We breakfast late and then we go to buy todays papers, returning to read them on the patio with fresh coffee. Its a slow morning till we eat rolls for lunch. We agree the afternoon walk and get ready with supplies and towels. We walk and walk and walk and walk the length of the beach until we find a point to breach the pebble ridge. We walk back across the burrows to the closest ice cream van. We sit and eat ice cream before walking back to our apartment. We sit on the patio with coffee and scones to recover. Once rested we go in search of postcards. We find them but in a closed shop, so it will be a tomorrow job. We cook dinner and watch athletics and programmes about Hemmingway, before I return to the blog.

Sunday and I hit the first crisis, the Wi Fi packs up. Makes blogging bloody difficult. So given that the probem persisted until now; Monday at 18:00 these contributions are going to be short and more cartoonish than ever. Sunday was a very slow day of meandering around Westwood Ho! reminding ourselves of what is here and then buying more food including a can opener that we discovered the apartment was short of. We made the discover of a good pasty kiosk on the sea front and of course indulged having been for a long roam round the area. By the time we were hungry again we were back in the apartment settling in to watch the last set of the men’s final at Wimbledon. For the first time in a long time I sat and read good Sunday newspapers. Not a lot of comfort to be had from them apart from the fact that some people are still trying to remain thoughtful about the pandemic. I also enjoyed the arts pages, which I discovered I missed. Of course at “that time” we sat down to watch England lose on penalties to Italy. My view: we sent boys to do a mans job. The more experienced players should have taken the responsibility of taking the penalties and not left it to the kids. Not smart Gareth, but noble to take the responsibility.

Monday and its wrestle with the bloody IT. After a lateish breakfast we go and walk the burrows behind the boulder ridge that borders the beach and then we walk back along the beach. Shoes and socks off we paddle the length of the beach returning to our favourite pasty kiosk for refreshment. After a rest we shop for salad and return to the apartment to find the WiFi back up, slow but up. We get comfortable, do the crosswords and then go for more shortbread, chocolate and fudge to see us through the evening. So here I am tentatively writing the blog and hoping the WiFi keeps chugging along. My latest theory of humanity from my observations of them at the seaside is that they stand still waiting for food but everything else is movement.

I am going to end here and perhaps risk adding photos later.

Its Saturday and we woke at 6 to dine on marmalade toast and coffee. I showered and then set about packing the car. It all went well apart from the handle of one of the suitcases falling off. By 8 o’clock we were under way to Westwood Ho! We arrived at 2pm due to the fact that I decided to stop twice, once for bladder relief and a snack and the second time just for another bladder relief. Before prostate cancer I would have ploughed on with foot down hard on the accelerator, muttering things about “whats the point of having a shit of a shovel car if you don’t go fast”. Now days I am more concerned with being comfortable and looking after myself, not to mention those in the car with me.

We arrive and unload and sit on our patio and look out over the ocean whilst eating pate and cherries washed down with coffee. We just sit and I watch people and the gulls waiting for one to try and snatch food from me like the bastards at Whitby tried to. But these gulls are clearly polite and well mannered which reinforces my view of the northern propensity to be rude under the guise of straight forwardness. Of course once rested we shop for all the things we realised we had forgotten while on the journey down. It also included super glue to mend the suitcase handle and some non alcohol beer. We wandered a bit to just make sure that everything we remembered from last time was still here. The brightly coloured row of cottage, the restaurants and shops where we bought trinkets to remind us of here never thinking we would be back. We return to the apartment and flop into big soft sofas and stare out the window for a while, I even read a little bit. Of course it was only a matter of time before I tried out the WiFi. I finally got in adn started to write the blog but hit a snag with the text formatting. Only one thing to do, pullout and restart the laptop and of course let it up grade. That was a mistake, the WiFi is so slow it took the laptop over an hour to up grade and reboot by which time we had figured out how to use the oven, cooked adn eaten a pizza, installed the mobile carbon monoxide detector/alarm and unpack. As the sun starts to go down I get back into the blog and finish for the day. Currently I am contemplating a gentle evening stroll while also playing with the TV to see if we can hook it up to the internet. I feel an early night coming on as the drive has made me tired. Perhaps the ocean will revive me.

Its Friday, prepare day for holiday. I’m up and meuslised and coffeed early and set about the holiday tasks. Empty bins, recycle cardboard, fill the car, check the tyres and top up the screen wash. Then of course there is the final packing and those tortuous decisions about what I’m going to be wearing over the coming week. On balance I figure I am going to an English seaside town (village) that has become more “kiss me quick hats” and chalet home holiday camp than an elite dining experience. That established I’ve gone for ultra casual, actually I’ve gone for one step from slob. Shorts, classy of course and a variety of tops from T shirts to ice hockey jerseys. Once again classy. With new underwear and socks I’m good. I wonder if the red street boots are a step too far.

I retreat to the shed for a while and write a letter. I find that if I do not write for a few days my head gets clogged with words and I do not function well. I pop over to the post office and drop the letter in the box. Its lunch time and my partner logs off from work and we go shopping for holiday food. We get enough to see us through the first couple of days, after that who knows. If we are in luck we can always pop over to the ice cream van that parks on the promenade opposite the apartment. We laze over coffee and Danish pastry as we read the paper and then I indulge in the crossword until my chore list calls. I take a call from a friend and we chat for a while about the coming days, work and parenting. I get my case sorted and down stairs. I’m still not sure about my wardrobe but I think its pitched right. Its time to train I’ve decided to bike today to loosen my legs and give my arms a rest. I return to the shed and set about my session.

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As I cycle the rain beats down and I wonder what you do when it throws it down in an English seaside village. There is going to be crazy golf on the edge of an ocean. I finish the session and sit resting before I move back to the house and change. I watch some tennis and then wander the garden taking pictures of flowers I had not noticed before.

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My evening continues with dinner,a film and the blog. Tonight I shall rest early and get myself ready for the drive to the seaside in the morning. Judging from tonight’s travel news the M5 and onwards to our seaside spot is a traffic nightmare. I guess the whole of England is running for shelter and some respite. I just want to see the sea, walk a beach and remind myself of just how elemental water is.

Thursday and I am up eating a muesli breakfast early. I watch the TV report on the COVID figures and the decisions being made. I am increasingly curious about the changing basis for decision making when it is being freely admitted that we are in a third wave. We are in a crazy situation where people are junking the tracking system and placing their faith in the vaccination process despite the fact that large urban areas have rates as low as 30%. Masks are being dumped and with it the idea of protecting others. It feels like large numbers of people are just about to take what they want regardless of the consequences to them or anyone else, with the travel industry heading the charge of people from a relatively safer environment into areas that are less safe. Could money be involved I ask myself.

A friend calls on her way to her second jab and we talk COVID and agree that there will be lock down in winter. I get to my meeting and spend time discussing with colleagues where we are going and how things are at the moment. There are some practical things to sort out and the its time to say farewell before lunch time arrives. I sit with my eldest daughter and we decide on what she wants delivered for the week at home on her own. The family then stroll down to the village shop to grab eggs and a paper for lunch. The sun is out and we eat scrambled eggs on the patio and read the paper. I linger over the crosswords before returning to the village and collect my drugs from the chemist. Back home I get my washing in and then sort them away before get into my training kit. I row for half an hour. Its hard, I’ve not trained for four days. I am rapidly discovering that I loose my fitness very quickly if I do not train everyday, except Sundays of course. So I grind out a session vowing that I will keep making the effort, although going away for a week will be a challenge.

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I clamber off the rower and then head for the luxury of a bath bomb bath. It is a delicious soak, I eat a peach and listen to the radio. Time for the usual Thursday tuna pasta and then some Wimbledon. My youngest daughter messages me to say that the sellers of the house they are in the process of buying have withdrawn. She is angry and I am afraid I was not much help. One of those times when the right words fail me. Parenting can be tricky. I watch more tennis and then return to the laptop to write the blog.

Tomorrow it is preparation day to travel on Saturday for a weeks break. The car needs to be prepared and the packing finished. Of course the food shop has to be done and the things that keep me safe like checking the first aid kit. Of course my office back pack goes with me and my newly acquired sketching kit to start the talentless artist uses art materials collection.