Arriving at East Wittering at around 7.30 in the morning, I was busy untangling my kite lines when I spied an aged gentleman with a skimpy towel wrapped around his waist descending the steps from his house to the beach. He padded over to a handy rockpool and proceeded to vigorously massage his knees and thighs with salt water. Then, he cast his towel aside, and looking not unlike Terry Jones as the juniper berry guardian in Life of Brian, danced and whirled his way towards me.

I watched in amazement as he gyrated past, limbs flailing and hair and genitals dangling. He sped into the distance, and disappeared from sight. Forty minutes later, while I was still trying vainly to get my kite up in the air, I witnesssed his reappearance on the other side of the beach. Several families with children were around by then and they, too, stared agog, as this bronzed, wrinkled escapee from another, more innocent time careered by and headed directly for the sea. There, he splashed contentedly for a while before turning and sprinting back towards his towel.

The last I saw of him was with his towel around his waist again as he hoisted himself back up the steps to his house.

I must say, I am full of admiration for the residents of East Wittering for not having this free spirited senior citizen cautioned and put away.