It’s getting to that point in the annual family holiday when it is almost time to go home…

The once full fridge is almost depleted, just a few half eaten sandwiches, a lone left cremated sausage, the odd apple and a hunk of cheese.

The close encounters and sharing of living space of 3 different families, despite being blood related, is just beginning to show with a few silent looks that says more than enough.

But we will fondly remember the sandy sarnies, soggy bottoms and dropped ice cream cones; the full breakfasts, scampi and chips and al fresco bbq’s;  trips on the shrimper, the speed boat, the tender and the kayak;  sand pits, sand holes, sand castles and moving camp multiple times to escape the incoming tides; daily ice creams to cool off, hot chocolates to warm up and ‘early doors’ just because we can…

We will drive back up the A30, M5 and M1 recounting stories of the new found secret bay with caves and crystal clear shallows, remind ourselves of how brave we were cruising in to the shore of 10ft waves and share how beautiful the sunset over the estuary was from a paddle board… especially with a Prosecco in our hands.