Another day, another walk. I’m rapidly running out of options around these estuary wilds parts in which to go wandering.
It doesn’t help that my bicycles are still behind closed doors. The scaffolding around the side passage is preventing any access. My legs are itching for a decent bike ride.
I made my way down to the river. There was plenty of aquatic traffic, as my walk was timed with another spectacular high tide.
The sailing club had some kind of dinghy race reaching its climax. I wasn’t the only person caught out on the shoreline when the rather loud horn was blasted out.
The weather conditions had taken a slight dip from the previous day. There was still plenty of sun, but the blustery winds made for favourable conditions for the sailors.
Not enjoying the wind so much were the two Wivgigs boats making steady progress back down towards the sailing club hard. I gave them a random wave, but I doubt they had a clue as to who I was in the distance.
I reached the wooded area along by the estuary. The Sunday afternoon walkers had dispersed. I had some bliss with Robert Elms in my airpods and a feature all about Northern Soul.
I reached the creek. I had a moment sitting on Fat Bloke’s bench. I took in my surroundings, and then retraced my steps and headed back to base.
I’m urgently in need of either some new routes or access to the bicycles once again.
