A day trip up the coast to Brancaster to sit on the beach and do very little. We decided to make a bacon and egg roll cooked fresh in the sunshine and paired it with flasks of our de facto Brazil Bom Jesus coffee, still piping hot from the espresso machine at home.
The contrariness and capriciousness of the British weather meant that skies clouded over within minutes of us pulling out of our driveway. I shouldn't complain as we have enjoyed a particularly hot spell with temperatures in the thirties. One of the joys of Brancaster in summer is that the shallow waters and sand bars ensure the North Sea warms up quickly to temperatures in the low 20s by the afternoon.
Having a Welsh Terrier on a dog-friendly beach will invariably result in a conversation with a stranger (is that an Airedale?) or more commonly, someone with direct experience of the breed will stop to meet him. This was the case with Kevin, a gregarious and effusive Welsh visitor who was walking a Basenji and Borzoi on their first visit to Brancaster. His Basenji was muzzled and Kevin immediately volunteered that he was an 'utter twat' nodding toward the muzzle.
We gave up on hopes of sunshine and repaired to Cley-next-the-Sea to Picnic Fayre for the temptations of their patisserie counter. The fruit tart with fresh Norfolk strawberries did not disappoint.
