To be sat on the veranda or patio of a shore side bar in a peacefully quiet gloriously sunny seaside village or town. Watching the waves lap the shore and people bustling about getting ready for the impending summer rush. I would sit there, feet up, book by my side, hat donned, reactive spectacles reacted.
The sun would be bright and warm. Not harsh and stinging but sufficient to require a modicum of shade. A few people might wander the shore with their dog. Children would be few and far between because they would be stuck in school. It would be peaceful and serene but not oppressively so. The only other people there would be the old, the retired, the well off and those wily enough to take their holiday before the schools break up for summer.
The smell of cooking lunches would waft in from the bar area. A menu on the table next to me would taunt like a siren on the rocks; cheese on toast, sausage and chips, chicken Caesar salad, cream teas, sandwiches – a broad range of foods and delights. A choice difficult to make but one that wouldn’t disappoint.
I would have a cool refreshing pint too. Nothing too strong, nothing too harsh. Just refreshing and long. There would be few, if any, wasps.
After lunch I might take a stroll along the shore. Not having to worry about losing my seat on the veranda with it being out of season. I would stroll bare foot along the sandy shore, gazing out to sea. In the bay there might be a solitary yacht belonging to some well to do person. In the near distance the cliffs along the shoreline would provide splendid vistas after a short scramble up the cliff side paths. There to rest once more for further reflection.
As the sun started to get lower in the sky and the early evening sun loses it’s heat I might then, once more head back into the village or town. Dine there or nearby. A return to my camp site as it starts to get dark. There to sit by a small camp fire for warmth, flask of tea to hand and Radio 4 on my headphones as I watch the sun set over the headland and the moon begin it’s journey. Viking, North Utsire, South Utsire… ahhh….so pleasant. So tranquil. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to oppress……Tyne, Dogger. North-east 3 or 4. Occasional rain. Moderate or poor. The occasional bat flying over head…Irish sea. South-east 2 or 3 Good…very few people about. Nobody wanting passwords changed. Nobody wanting cat litter changing. Nobody moaning about how that nice selfless thing you did was not good enough. Just me. The peace. The countryside. Nature. The sea.
I’d probably get bored after a week.