Blowy at the beach

As the summer tails off into September and the blustery wind starts to have an autumn feel to it, our thoughts are turning towards whether we can appoint a builder and get extension work started before frozen ground impinges upon our building plans. Sharon has issued our tender document and we await the responses to see just what exactly we can afford on our budget. The warrants are completed and we'd like to do the rear and garage side as a minimum, but it all depends on the cost. There has been a succession of builders through the house in the last week or so as Sharon runs her eye over them, from the "far too cheap to be decent quality" end of the spectrum to the "sounds great but unaffordable" end. It's all about the references, really.

Despite the fierce wind yesterday we threw together a quick picnic lunch and headed to the Secret Beach to meet up with the Eastwoods (Julie, Colin, Charlie and Rosie) who had already pitched their shelter in the bracing breeze. It was too gusty for our windbreak but we had a good time eating, wandering along the wind-strafed beach, clambering over the rocks by the water, throwing stones, finding stones, making paint from powdered stones (Finn especially liked this activity, so thanks to Colin) and climbing the tree by the path down to the beach. Three hours that certainly blew the cobwebs away. We earned our fish and chips from the Chip Inn!

Sharon hosted her Grand a Month dinner on Saturday, spending most of the day cooking and tidying the house. I put away the Lego which has been lying mostly untouched for some months in the playroom. We do need to get better at recycling the toys and will have to keep a lid, literally, on the clutter once the building work starts and we have to cram in to less living space. Late in the afternoon I took the boys and their bikes down to the "grassy bit" behind the building site that was the Fairmile Inn. Rowan wailed for half the trip down the hill that his bike was "too heavy" (depite him pushing it down the hill) but then cemented last week's first attempts at riding without stabilisers by successfully completing a number of test rides down the grassy knoll, managing to steer round to the path a few times too. Angus (with stabilisers) had a couple of dicey moments that I was blamed for, becasue I didn't run and hold him, but he kept at it. Sean and Finn are cycling well now: they just don't get out on their bikes often enough.

Sean started Scouts properly on Friday night and said he felt more grown up after his first evening wearing his new Scout shirt and belt. He needs to grow to fill the shirt! I went up for a talk about next summer's camp, a once every four years opportunity for the Fairmilehead Scouts to go to Kindersteg in Switzerland. Sean is very eager but resigned that he won't get to go on several counts - we feel he's just too young to go away for 2 weeks; only 27 of the Scouts will get to go and it'll be the older ones who'll get priority; it costs £725! But I have to say it did look like a great opportunity.

Giant's Causeway

Sunday dawned reasonably bright as Angus fell out the camp bed in our room. The boys kept fairly quiet however and Sharon and I had a lie in while they arranged their own breakfast downstairs. We made the short drive to the Giant's Causeway late in the morning and parked in the Bushmills Railway car park since, at €6 for the day, it was considerably cheaper than the €21 being asked for the combined car park and visitor centre that opened last year. We walked back up, through the tunnel and down the coastal path to the Giant's Causeway itself. The walk is reminiscent of the cliffs and raised beach of Skye or Arran. After about a mile we reached the hexagonal columns of the causeway itself, their flat tops and undulations like some geometric construction designed by man. The boys clambered all overs the columns and up some of the narrower ridges which was a bit nerve-wracking in the gusty wind. Reputedly the Causeway is the windiest spot in Ireland.

I headed out with the big three to where the waves were breaking and the spray was flying while Sharon waited for the bus back with a tiring Angus. Then the rain shower arrived! We huddled in a gap in the basalt as the rain lashed around us until we decided to make a break for it and return to the road. I survived a nasty slip on the slick rock. Sean and Finn walked back up the hill at a good pace while I accompanied Rowan. Despite the rain we were all in good spirits when we met up with Angus and Sharon at the top. Finn was funny, mimicking a woman who had been "singin' in the rayin" to her children. But we were pretty wet!

I dropped everyone back at the cottage then did a quick lunch shop in Bushmills before returning for a well earned roll and sausage. After a rest we drove along the coast to Portrush, a busy resort town with a stunning beach and a great looking links golf course. The boys had a brief free runaround in the rather grimly decorated Finn MacCool's soft play then we wandered along to the very busy 55 Degrees North who didn't have a note of our booking but who managed to find us a table nonetheless. Despite the business the service was good and the food was excellent, my pork chop, mash and red cabbage being very tasty, Sharon enjoying her steak and the boys tucking into their pizzas, pastas and salmon. It was very good value too, on the early evening menu but with portions that would put most restaurants in Edinburgh to shame.

I went to get the car and was held up as an Orange march made its way through the already busy streets. The boys headed along to the glorious stretch of beach known as the East Strand. Angus and Rowan immediately stripped down and ran into the sea, evoking memories of the last evening in Mallorca in 2010 when the big three were chasing in and out of the waves. Eventually we rounded them up, dusted them off and headed back to Bushmills to end a second enjoyable day in Norn Irlnd.

A sleepy little town

I was long overdue a visit west so I headed off on Friday with Rowan and Angus in tow, after the usual morning spent packing, to see Dorothy in Paisley en route to heading over to Millport. Dorothy was looking well, having passed her 80th birthday last year. Rowan and Angus were suitably well behaved, although Angus did nearly knock Dorothy over when he rushed at her as we were saying goodbye after a walk across Brodie Park to the playpark. Rowan was delighted to discover Dorothy's Nintendo DS. That kept him occupied for half the visit!

We did a brief tour around Glenburn by car. The last of the tenements have now been removed from Grampian Avenue meaning that the landscape of my childhood is now a very odd one, with strings of terraced houses separated by broad green spaces. At least they have grassed over the gap sites but it is fascinating to see the path from Skye Cresecent shops standing in isolation where once it cut between tenements and lock-ups. I asked Rowan if he would find it strange to come back to Swanston Terrace with his children to point it out to them, but that someone else would be living there. I could see him coming to terms with the idea until he gave one of his sage nods and agreed "that would be weird."

It was chilly on the ferry across from Largs to the Cumbrae Slip. Angus was excited as we docked and the door laid down to let us drive on to the island. We came over Ferry Road which affords a lovely view down over Millport to the Wee Cumbrae and beyond to Bute and Arran. Dusk was approaching as we arrived at our rented flat, 24 Stuart Street, top floor above the Ritz Cafe. Having lugged the stuff up the stairs (the wee two aren't renowned for their ability to shift baggage, although Angus can manage a fair weight in his muckle paws) we went for an evening stroll along the deserted prom and threw some stones in the sea at Newton Beach. There was some snow clinging to the slopes of Arran's mountains and the profile of the Wee Cumbrae was as familiar as ever.

After dinner and telly I finally settled the boys down. They were sharing a double bed while I was in a sleeping bag on the bed settee. Millport was like a ghost town, a fact echoed by the lonely caterwaulings from the George Hotel karaoke as the evening wore on. Saturday dawned grey and grim, with the last remains of a band of rain lingering over the Firth of Clyde and a stiff breeze blowing. We had a late breakfast, watched the seals on the Eileans through the binoculars, then eventually wrapped up and battled our way along the sea front to Kames Bay. The boys ran about the crazy golf, were curious about the Crocodile Rock and had to be warned off the rocks which were slick with algae and rain. We cut back along the back streets "It's a sleepy little town" declared Rowan. He decided that one dwelling "looked like a vampire house" just before a curious wailing rose on the air from it. Rowan's eyes widened and we scuttled on!

After lunch we walked round to West Bay to see May and James. Alison was there too. I hadn't see her since Dad's funeral, over sixteen years ago. May broke a couple of ribs last week but is still looking well and James still has his spark of humour despite being pretty much housebound these days. He's getting more deaf and his lungs and heart aren't great but he still had a smile on his face. Rowan read most of the time but then he and Angus took to wrestling on the carpet in the hall which was not conducive to a lengthy visit.

Fortunately they had a diversion just a few doors away. The Best girls, Emily and Rachel, were staying with their gran, Lorna, at number 15. Rachel is in Rowan's class at school and Finn is in the same class as Emily. It was dry overhead but still overcast, damp and cold, but the boys and girls had a great time playing in the West Bay play park. We went inside for some indoors play while I had a cup of tea and a chat with Lorna. Angus and Emily went down to the little beach then the girls showed the boys an old World War II cannon on the edge of the playing field. By now, Rowan was running about without a coat on, despite it being cold. It was an enjoyable afternoon with no rush to go anywhere or do anything other than play.

As it started to get dark we bade our farewells and walked back round to our flat for tea and telly. Angus was much quicker to get to sleep after a day of fresh air and no naps! Rowan continued his reading rampage, piling through Beast Quest books at a rate of one an hour or quicker. It's great to see.

Sunday morning was a marked contrast to Saturday, the sun dancing on the sea as the tide began to recede from its dawn high water mark. The flat we were in had a lovely view across the Eileans in the bay to Hunterston (well, power stations do spoil a view somewhat) and down to Portencross. The chairs by the window were just the spot for a leisurely cup of tea. I packed up and washed up then we went a short distance to the rocks below the crazy golf. Rowan impressed by climbing the four to five metre wall that I once froze on as a teenager (I climbed it before Rowan, just to prove to myself I still could!) then, as I was taking a photo of him, I felt my feet slipping away on the rock. I tried to re-adjust but had to step on to wetter rocks and more seaweed. My legs went from under me and I sprawled on my back. I was fortunate that I landed on a flat, but damp, rock. How I didn't break my camera, my wrist or crack my head or damage my back I don't know, although I suspect I did sprain a thumb as my hand is rather tender today.

We packed the last of the gear in the car, the boys had an ice lolly from the Ritz Cafe, we wandered around the block and up the Old Pier, then got in the car. I drove the long way round to the ferry, up the west coast of Greater Cumbrae with its views across to Kilchattan Bay, Arran and Kintyre beyond. Rowan was disappointed not to see Indian Rock (I think it was overgrown) but was singing lots of songs about Pooh Bear and was in a great mood. Angus was also pretty lively. I think they enjoyed their "venture" as Angus called it. We missed the 3.30 sailing so I drove up to the Glaid Stane at the top of the island. It's a fine point from which to view the Firth of Clyde: north to Inverkip and the Holy Loch and Kyles of Bute and south to the Wee Cumbrae and Arran.

From there we were homeward bound, crossing on the 4pm ferry and arriving home at 5.45pm in time for tea. A great wee break "doon ra' wattir!"

Grand day out

Given the weather this summer, I hardly expected we'd be in shorts and trunks and suncream so soon after returning from Spain but I was wrong. Friday dawned clear so I made a picnic and packed up the car with the buckets and spades and got the boys herded up. We drove out to Dunbar. The tide was well out but, despite this, the bridge over the tidal river was still short of the far bank so we had to wade across to the beach on the other side. A bit fraught when carrying a bag full of stuff and leading Angus and Rowan, but we settled down to some serious digging with cut-price snow-shovels I'd secured from Sainsburys. After a good spell of sandcastle making and filling buckets with water and digging a big hole, we retreated across the bridge and set to eating our picnic.

It was a beautiful day so next stop was Tantallon Castle, also known as "Windy Castle". We clambered up to the top and explored the nooks and crannies and spiral staircases, looking out over the sea to Bass Rock and Fife beyond. From there we moved on to the East Sands at North Berwick. By now the tide was in and the breakers were crashing against the favourite outcrop of rocks. Soon the boys were running in and out the surf and clambering over the rocks, which was not the safest place to be given the rather unpredictable nature of the waves. I had to climb on too and remove Angus before he ventured too close to the spray and foam that the others were finding so exciting. It was a great late afternoon sight as the boys chased up and down the beach, squealing with delight.

Eventually I got them changed (again) and we went in search of food, ending up going in for bruschetta and a pizza (and squid and risotto for me). Not surprisingly they all fell asleep on the drive home but it was a grand day out!

Party in the sand

"Thank you Alex! This is the best birthday pawty ever!" So proclaimed Rowan loudly, clad in his towel and trunks, piece of battered fish in hand as he wandered into the middle of the throng sitting on Seacliffe beach happily tucking into their fish suppers. His eyes were twinkling and his dimples deep as he beamed at everyone. It was completely unprompted and showed once again that Rowan knows exactly what he is feeling and how confident he is in expressing himself in a group. He goes beyond his older brothers in that regard and I hope he keeps that faith in himself.

He was right too. As far as birthday parties went, Saturday at the secret beach was probably as good as the kids would want to have it. Sharon was working in Livingston so I arrived with the four lads after a morning of packing and preparing for the beach. The forecast was set fair and we set up on the beach next to the MacLeods, Pattersons, Fishers, Barrs and Valentines. A couple of other families arrived too and soon the kids were off to the waters' edge, hunting starfish and crabs and digging channels and organising and chasing and yelling. Rowan was the second youngest but threw himself into the fray with more abandon than he usually does at the beach and less wailing!

Angus took his time to get settled then he too started to make the most of the freedom; digging, finding shells and stones and throwing himself about the sand. After the barbecue, the children headed for the north end of the beach to dam a river and revolt at the sight of a dead seal. Angus stayed closer, going for a paddle, jumping over waves and running in and out of the sea with much joyous shrieking. He tired eventually and I took him back to the car for a change and a doze (me rather than him, as it turned out!) before we rejoined the fray. Rounders, kicking a ball about, playing catch then more paddling as the tide came in and flooded the "aquarium" built earlier in the day. Everyone was having a blast, forming splinter groups and running around doing whatever they wanted. I stuck to Angus as he flirted with the waves once more, falling on his face in the water after a comedy slip on a rock and then trying to wade out too far in pursuit of his brothers and finding it a tad chilly in the nappy!

As the sun dipped there was a mercy dash to North Berwick for fish and chips which were delivered back to the beach in reasonably quick time, given how busy NB usually is on a sunny day. Iain V said the look when he ordered 13 fish suppers was priceless - I'm glad I wasn't next in the queue! With the children looking pink and, finally, running out of energy, we packed up the gear and trudged back to the car as the sun slipped behind some cloud and a few spots of rain spattered the sand. All but Sean fell asleep on the late drive home which resulted in mayhem back at the house. Sharon had been for a brisk walk up Allermuir and was faced with Angus, Rowan and Finn girning the house down as they got showered, creamed up and sent off to bed.

Despite all that, it was a splendid day at the beach.