Sugary Cove

Next morning the world had changed from Autumnal damp to the best Indian Summer day imaginable. Summer frocks and Sunshine. I walked out on the path towards Dartmouth Castle but it was far too nice to go inside and the sea beckoned. A few twists and turns later around the coastline, there was a flight of narrow muddy steps running down to Sugary Cove. The place was deserted, except for a moored boat. It was a bit tricky wading through the line of rocks to open water but then it was warmer than it had been in mid-summer Cumbria. I swam out to the boat and waved good morning. Two people were cooking breakfast but sadly I was not offered any! 
Still, swimming with sun-warmth hitting the back of my neck was fairly blissful and only marred when I tried to wade back through the swash and suck of waves through the rocks. A lot of ouch and blood staining the barnacles. Sun-dried, I made my way back and bought a cup of Castle cafe coffee. 
Sitting basking is no way to keep in touch with time though and meeting up with family at midday in town was already an impossibility. How fortuitous then to see the signs for the passenger ferry, straight to where I needed to be. A short ride over startlingly blue water and there we all were eating picnic lunch overlooking the harbour and shooing away the seagulls.