The beach at Esposende is over a kilometre long and, apart from a speck and a half at the far end, I have it all to myself this Friday morning. Definitely a good thing, since it will spare me a few blushes. I took the “high road” to the beach, clambering over the rugged breakwater jutting from the promenade, and managed to avoid killing or injuring myself, but succeeded in ripping a huge hole in my trousers.
I’m feeling a bit exposed in more ways than that; some discarded syringes on the beach here had me wondering about drug abuse here, except that they were not the type of syringe you’d expect – they were opaque with oddly long nozzles, not made for attaching a needle. A dead gull, washed up on the shoreline, brought the situation into focus; they’ve been inoculating birds against avian flu, and (I guess) didn’t get to them all.
At least the weather is good; the rain is gone for the moment, as are most of the clouds, though the steady wind off the Atlantic will keep my jacket on, even as it rushes up through the hole in my trousers. Looks like I’m going shopping this afternoon, weather permitting, after a Very Silly Walk back to the hotel to change.