Precambrian

A lie in. Of sorts. After breakfast I work until midday. Immovable deadlines loom and I’m in a productive frame of mind.

After lunch, Liz drives Freya and her friend off for an afternoon at the seaside. I undertake to cycle down to be with them. I’m sore after yesterday’s outing, but after ten kilometres I warm up.

At the beach I snooze, and contemplate the hills, the fjord, the smell of barbecue lighter fluid, and the incredible age of the rocks beneath. The girls play in the sea and the sand, and find starfish.

Come four, I set off for home, eventually stumbling jelly-legged onto the veranda after 800 m of ascent.