Oh I do like to be beside the seaside

This weekend Mr Man, Barney Trubble and I have escaped from the big city in favour of sea air, country views and a taste of rural living in our castle. Due to recent events we have not been able to get down here for a while as since I cannot drive at present due to the side effects of some of the medications which have a tendency to make me a bit fuzzy round the edges, the driving is all down to Mr Man. Due to his five day a week a job and a likeness for playing hockey on Saturdays, weekends by the seaside have not happened as much as we would have liked as by the time hockey is over and we got here, we would only have 24 hours before it was time to go home again. However, this weekend Mr Man has foregone the opportunity to be spotted by the GB selectors and took Friday and Monday off so we could have some bracing fresh air, and a very much needed change of scenery.

We arrived on Friday afternoon, although it was very dark when we got here. This was partly very noticeable as the sun had set, but also the lack of orange glow from street lights made the night sky look even more black than it ever does at home. When there is a clear sky the star gazing opportunities are phenomenal and I could spend many an hour getting a crick in my neck trying to identify the plough and Orion which are the only two constellations I can pick out with any degree of certainty. After settling down for the evening feeling very pleased that we were inside in the dry whilst it was pouring down outside and very big rain was hammering in the conservatory roof, it became apparent that whilst we may have been dry, we most certainly weren't warm. We had no heating. Terrific. According to the thermostat it was a toasty 12.5 degrees Celsius and no amount of switching it on and off again was going to get the boiler to heat the radiators. We have recently had the bathrooms refitted and so have been aware of the delicacy of the boiler with regard to hot water, but the heating issue was a new problem. Friday evening was spent shivering under blankets and I ended up going to bed dressed as if I were spending a night at the ice hotel. I even opted for my eye mask as although it was plenty dark enough, it provided added warmth to my face. This morning, therefore, I was surprised at how easy it was to find a local heating plumber who was very helpful and able to come out this afternoon to rectify the issues. You would certainly never get such efficient helpfulness in London and certainly not from someone found essentially through the yellow pages. Anyway, boiler expert Lee arrived this afternoon and within about 20 minutes had the heating working and hot water coming out of the taps. He identified the problem which requires some specialist spare part and has recommended someone also local who is an expert in our sort of boiler and so hopefully we can get it fixed and functioning for good. Result. So at the time of writing this I am at least warm.

Earlier on today we took the woof dog out for a walk over the hills to the South west coast path where we had the misfortune to come across what can only be described as several hundred nutters participating in a range of long distance running races along the SouthWest coastal path. The definition of nutter, and my classification of the situation as misfortunate can be understood by thinking about the width and incline of the southwest coast path (it's about 50 to 100cm wide in places and very steep and ondulating given that it follows the Jurassic coast throughout Dorset) and then recalling the amount of rain that fell the night before (a lot). This all lead to basically a mud slide in places which is manageable when tackled slowly and whilst wearing the appropriate footwear (Wellies) but made a lot worse by idiot runners wearing trainers and trying to overtake other users of the public footpath between gorse bushes and over slippery bridges. It wasn't long before I was quite irritated by these people who seemed to assume that we would just get out of their way so they could hurtle past us on the narrow paths because they had shouted 'coming through' as they approached us panting and sweating from behind. The key issue was that due to the narrowness of the path there was no where to get out of the way to , a fact which seemed to have escaped most of these Lycra clad sadists. Barney did his best to trip a few of them up, but in short it was disappointing that they managed to ruin what was an otherwise good walk.

So, despite the initial cold snap and the mud bath of a walk, it is super to be able to have a change of scenery and some brisk sea air, which is a tonic all by itself. And if that is not positive enough, I just have to recall the look of misery on some of those mad runner's faces as they slipped their way along the Jurassic coast, and be very grateful for my hunter Wellies.