School's out for summer

The summer finally arrived. It's been hot and sticky for most of the week. Dan packed up school on Tuesday. That's the day they told us that our request for a move to a new school had been turned down. I wasn't surprised as it would cost Cambridgeshire more money, though Hanna took the news in the usual manner. If I was on the committee, I'd be watching my back!

I came down with an ear infection and sinusitis, so tried to spend most of two days asleep, but this excellent plan was foiled by the (French owned) electricity company, who decided to dig up the street this week. They also announced that they will be increasing their charge (pun intended) to us by a shocking 20%. So much for current affairs. Resistance would be futile; we'll just have to stay ohm this winter and generate a bit of heat by running on the spot, or get more insulation. To be honest, the ear infection helped as it made me deaf on one side. So as long as I lay on my good ear, I couldn't hear much. I should remember that when Hanna wants tea in bed.

Feeling a bit better, I decided to take the remaining day off and take Hanna and Dan to the seaside. We packed a picnic and set off in high spirits, only to join a two-hour queue of elderly couples, tractors and trucks, all intent on getting to King's Lynn by lunchtime. Anyway, the place was closed, due to an accident, so we took a detour round by Sandringham and got to the nearest beach at Sherringham. It looks good when the tide is in. In fact, the RSPB has a reserve there which holds millions of waders at high tide. The rest of the time it is "Mud City", which is why the birds go there in the first place.

Dan is not keen on sand, but he's even less fond of mud. He stayed on his chair for an hour before getting the idea and setting off over the horizon for Lincolnshire, on the far shore of the Wash. Having proved his point, he signed "car-keys" and so we packed up and went to Hunstanton, which is just a few miles further East. We've never liked the place, it's all fun-fairs and chip-shops, but we discovered that the far end of town is really rather nice. This is Old Hunstanton, where the old Hunstantonians hang out. It has leisure gardens and posh hotels. At this end of town the Beach is still close by, but inaccessible at the bottom of a large, perpendicular, chalk cliff. At the furthest East end of the promenade is Hunstanton's highest point which is surmounted by a lighthouse (which is for sale, by the way.) There's also a Coast-guard station, a cafe and a car park. In the typically logical and understated way the people of Norfolk have of stating the ruddy obvious, the place is called Cliff.

We like Cliff. We will go there again.

Today has been a day of doing very little. Nick has returned from Craggy Island and is mooching about the house. We must take him out somewhere tomorrow.