Jumping from Eastbourne to Dinard

That’s a world long jump record boys and girls! Friends say, “Dave, we know you’re walking from John O’Groats to Africa but why do you keep jumping from Spain to England to France, and filling in the gaps later?”

I of course reply, “Something here inside cannot be denied.” This is a photo of me saying that.

Any road up, I want to walk some of the north coast of Britanny now and for the next two weeks, and I’ve got company. Antonia, our middle daughter, is joining me for the first week and Georgie, our eldest, for the second. Three hundred kilometres of coastline walking and we’re back under canvas again. A tent for the girls and a brand new tarp for me. I’m calling it Wilson. Hooray! Wilson is back. 

I took a train to Antonia’s place in Cambridge and we got a flight yesterday from Stansted to Dinard. We were landing into Dinard when the plane suddenly powered fully up and climbed rapidly back into the sky. There was a massive tempest over the airport and within seconds the runway was flooded so we had to abort the landing. I of course took this in my stride as a seasoned flyer, and shat myself. We circled round and round for over half an hour and then finally landed smoothly onto a wet Britanny. 

We had planned to walk a fair trek that afternoon to a campsite on the coast but the wind was wild and the world was soaked, so we walked up towards Dinard on an old railway line.

Even with the ropey weather we passed some beautiful sights.

We got a cheap hotel room and went to a local supermarket for our dinner. Antonia got side tracked!

Nevertheless we had some decent scran and turned in for an earlyish night.

Night night.