After this year's stress and a week leading up to Christmas which read like the plot line in a South American soap opera I grabbed on to this hope that I would be wadding through clear water and sun filled days. If I can just make it through Boxing Day I said to myself. Expectations.
All year I've had to explaining to my beach loving three year old that we can't swim at our beaches because there are poo-poos in the sea. I raved to her about what fun we would have at the beach. She and Dad went for a paddle, but stormy seas had stirred up the pollution and bought it all back onshore. Expectations. So there was some of this:
And on our final evening our 'looking on the bright side' was rewarded with this
And just one more photo - the most intriguing painter's studio perched in a cleft in the rocks and looking out to sea - what bliss it must be to work here