This is a new feeling for me: pounding feet in the sand, eye on a distant horizon, rush of waves, and salty air. Arriving on this firm stretch of sand feels all the sweeter when it comes after hopping over tussocky clifftop grass and gingerly racing down steep steps. Taking my own advice, we found plenty of excuses to stop, for blackberries on the hill, and photos on the beach. The blackberries made a pretty sweet crumble for pudding, washed down with plenty of custard, and well-deserved after my first beach run.
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