I am meeting people for a short clifftop stroll.
It’s wild. I’m windswept, watching waves roll
in on the low-tide sun-soaked shore.
Here come the ladies I’ve never met before.
We walk for a bevy to a nearby caff
getting to know each other, having a laugh.
Parting company I wander about
thinking how great it is to be out.
On I walk past beaches more
hugging the walkways close to the shore,
passing the harbour, I’ve been there before,
following signs to where I’m heading for.
At my destination I find Stein’s fish and chips,
and without a thought of increasing my hips
I order a boxful to eat outside
whilst watching Fistral surfers ride.
I sit at a balcony table all alone
taking a photo of my meal with my phone,
when down comes a seagull hoping to snatch
a chip from my box, but he misses his catch.
Refreshed and replete I start on back
following a different coastal track,
admiring the view of from whence I came
wondering if I can walk back there again.
Weary and aching on into town I roam
hoping to catch a bus back home,
but as I almost reach the bus stop
the bus drives off before on I could hop.
As I’d arrived at the bus stop late
the next would be a two-hour wait.
Oh well, it is only another mile:
easy if I were a bit more agile.
So with gritted teeth I stagger back
from the cliffs taking my usual track.
A three or four mile walk I usually like
but what I’ve done is a seven mile hike.
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