Mmm. A succession of nights out with a handy ‘bucket’; or a succession of days in without food. Neither appeals much to someone whose idea of a big time is shared by Calvin’s dad.

I’m not sure he would have considered diving through flaming hoops ‘character building’, either!

I’m glad you found Ankor Wat ‘suitably impressive’. I feel the same about Chichester Cathedral, which you may have noticed on occasion, going to and fro about the town.

I hope the stuff you filled your buckets with wasn’t like the cheap vodka that is killing people by the score in minor Russian towns and appears to have arrived in Britain:

“Drinkers have been warned to look out for illegal bottles of a vodka that could blind or kill. A bottle of Kremlin Vodka with sixteen times the recommended maximum amount of methanol was found on sale at a shop in Burnley, Lancs. Trading Standards officers fear it is available across the North West and urged consumers to contact them if they come across it. Methanol is a toxic chemical often used in bootleg liquor. Even moderate amounts can kill and initial effects may include drowsiness, inebriation. Delayed symptoms include blindness.”

I didn’t think ‘inebriation’ was unusual when drinking vodka, but blindness would be.

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.

Mmm, I like that hut. The sea, too. Ko Lanta it is, then …

The delightful Bracklesham Bay is where we’re at. I’m not so fond of my leggings, though.

I’m not sure I was actually moving at the time that picture was taken. For a truer representation, check this out:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4TUefTRymM

I’ve been doing some tree pruning and gutter repairing and there’s nothing like a solid, German made, splay footed, heavy duty ladder to give me the sense of confidence to overcome my incipient vertigo. Presumably, these chaps have no such concerns:

You’re not actually playing the Bognor Rocks, are you? If you were, I could read all about in the local free rag.

Except there weren’t any bees around …

Still, these rather ‘full’ lips are fashionable, I believe.