Woke up on Saturday in Gullane, flung open the curtains and was nearly dazzled by bright sunlight flooding in. After a few coffees and croissants I headed down to the beach. Tottering through a gap in the prickly sea buckthorn bushes in my flip-flaps I met a pretty strong wind which was whipping up the sand, making it impossible to see. After a few seconds of stumbling blindly around I remembered that I was wearing goggles on my head and having flipped them on I was able to reach the beach. There I met an elderly windsurfer, fully clad in a wet-suit, gloves, helmet and shoes. He asked me if I had “never thought of buying a wet-suit” – must have thought I was a bit daft…
Pressed on and flung myself into the crashing surf. Not as cold as I expected and very refreshing bouncing up and down and leaping skywards as the waves dashed in. I made sure to make myself visible to the windsurfer zipping by at about 100 mph by waving my arms wildly above the waves.
Lots of dog walkers parading up and down the beach. Probably thought I was bonkers but it was a fantastic swim in green and white breakers with the sun blazing down.
Made a slight mistake in staying to chat to a windsurfer (not the elderly one, but a much more handsome younger one, probably half my age at least) and got a bit wind-chilled. This gave me the useful excuse of dodging into the local German cafe for a large hot chocolate before heading back to the West Coast.