The Great Orme

The alarm was set for 3.45 am this morning to ensure that we weren't rushing to get to the ferry terminal at Dublin for 8.15. As it happened the drive at that time of day took less than 3 hours so there was loads of time to spare - a rare event for M and myself! We're both getting better at this - and enjoying being less stressed by that ticking clock!

We passed through quite a bit of rain in the central plain of Ireland and the crossing was rather grey, but once in Wales the sun was out and when we stopped briefly outside Holyhead we enjoyed that extraordinary experience of being physically assaulted by the temperature, something you only normally feel when leaving the air-conditioned terminal buildings of continental airports after having flown from the UK. It's a sign of how miserable our summer has been that a genuine summer's day was such a shock to behold. It really was as if we had forgotten what it felt like.

We stopped off at Llandudno on the way back to pick up M's mother, which gave us an excuse to have a run on the beautiful limestone peninsular of the Great Orme. M thoroughly enjoyed showing me one of her regular routes on what is a very special place for her. We were out for about an hour at a gentle pace, soaking up the sun and the incredible views, covering about 6 miles I guess. I was aware that the left calf is not feeling right, although not in a significant enough way for me to rule out simple paranoia! During our run I realised that it was 30 years since I'd last been here on the Orme, when I organised a New Year's caving tour of this part of North Wales, staying at Youth Hostels and travelling around by bike - heavily laden with all our pot-holing gear. My only clear memory of that entire holiday was of having to abandon the proposed route one day because the snow was too thick on the road, and waiting for a train with totally frozen hands. The crazy things you do when you are young!

Made it back home just before 6pm to be greeted by No.2 son in ebullient mood. He'd been getting out on his bike, very much inspired by the Tour de France, and was really full of himself. He couldn't stop talking! It was such a lovely warm evening that I suggested we go for a ride, and he was up for that. We just went out to the top of Askwith Hill and back, but at a good pace. I could see that his bike fitness was returning fast ... and his enthusiasm. He was on a real high for the rest of the evening. I know that feeling well.