My plan for today was a Seafront Stroll with The Girls.
Take careful note of those words for a moment because they are all very important as far as I am concerned.
First of all, there is that word "stroll." What an evocative word it is! According to my trusty Theasaurus, alternative words might be an "amble" or a "saunter" or - I love it - a "meander." A stroll is not, repeat not, a hike.
Or a trek. Or a power walk. These would not be not for the like of me. But a stroll sounds just perfect, especially when taken in conjunction with the word "seafront". What could be better on a Tuesday morning?
A seafront stroll is, by its very nature, a leisurely affair. I could tell, immediately, that I wouldn't have to dig out my hiking boots from the hidey-hole at the very back of the hall cupboard. I wouldn't need
to spend half an hour scraping off the dried mud caking their soles, left over from the time I accidentally went on a stroll which turned into a ramble and then metamorphosed into a full-on hike. No, this time I was pretty sure I would be safe.
What's more, dotted along the seafront at strategic intervals are some excellent places to stop for a medium skinny latte and a toasted tea cake, or a jacket potato with tuna and mayonnaise, or a Sussex cream tea. Or all three, if you time your stops
Who are "The Girls" I can hear you asking. Well, our Morning Meander was my chance to find out. I'd been invited along by my friend Eleanor, who is One of The Girls. Like Eleanor,
they sound a merry bunch, right up my street. Apparently they communicate via their own website but when I googled "Worthing Girls" the results were not exactly what I was expecting...
a bit of an on-off affair, our seaside stroll. Yesterday evening it was off. This morning it was on. And when just three of us turned up at the meeting place, under glowering skies spitting hostile raindrops at us, it was off again. We took the only
sensible decision and stopped for coffee. If, that is, you can make a stop before you've started? Well, we did anyway.
Lots of people seemed to have had the same idea. At the next table to ours
were four young mums, all with babies of about six weeks old - an ante-natal group reunion I decided. Several elderly couples were gazing dismally out at the grey sea in companionable silence. And the three of us, talking about everything from women bishops
to modern teaching methods. We had the seafront, we had the coffee, we had the conversation. All we were missing was the exercise.
Three out of four's