Never too old to play in the sand

All teenagers need family holidays. Cut through the verbal jousting, the strong-arm tactics, the sheer bloody-mindedness, they’re still really just big kids.
Yesterday was the most beautiful day. After a typically circuitous drive, crisscrossing the Pembrokeshire countryside to get there ‘as the crow flies’, the journey straining to the sounds of ‘I’m bored’, ‘How long IS this journey?’, ‘What are we even going to DO?’, we spent three delicious hours walking the coastal path from Manorbier to the beautifully-named Swanlake Bay. Well, most of those 3 hours, to be fair, were spent picnicking and playing on the beach after the bracing walk along the clifftops to get there. Number 1 boy threw sticks for the pup; Number 2 boy insisted we buried him in the sand. Finished off with a 99 icecream in the car park.
Just as term-time habits and routines build up, so can holiday ones that put everything back into balance. We’ve had this day many times before. It’s never planned as such, it just seems to happen, connecting us to each other, to our shared history. I smile as I recall them so much smaller, one striking out across rock pools, the other inventing games in the sand. Treasure these days.



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