Now there’s a title for song, to be written by a suitably skilled guitar-twanging tourist whilst waiting for a break in the Great British weather.
Borrowing I believe to be a most appropriate phrase from a friend of mine, the UK’s weather guessing service had been guessing at a dismal day of heavy rain for some time. Actually, the weather guessing service was changing its guess about every ten minutes but a consistent message could be discerned: Wednesday was going to be complete and utter pants and not a day for going out sightseeing. In fact, Wednesday wasn’t a day for going out at all so my three lady companions set about what proved to be a fiendishly difficult jigsaw which had been packed for just such an eventuality.
Today felt a bit like Bunree revisited; bad memories of our recent, meteorologically disastrous, Scottish excursion. Today’s rain in north Cornwall broke every now and then for all of five minutes at a time but not long enough for us to do anything touristically constructive. The day’s highlight for me, as a non-jigsaw person, was a trip to a supermarket to buy the ingredients for a Fish Crumble.
I spotted the beginnings of stir-craziness, even in my mobility challenged mother.