Yesterday, Laura and I drove down to Camber, near Rye, on the south coast, to enjoy the sand dunes and the beach, and what turned out to be a fantastically sunny day.
My mate Ian had decided to reprise a fondly remembered trip there a few years ago in celebration of his birthday this weekend.
We lay on the sand, frolicked with a number of balls, round and odd shaped, and even took in a game of 40/40 amongst the sand dunes. For those of you not familiar with the game, in our version, it involved one team (the defenders) using a couple of cricket stumps and hiding them, while the other team (the attackers) had to steal in and snatch one of said stumps without being caught. All great fun!
The day finished with a race to the sea (by the evening a good half a mile away as the tide had retreated). We were all already 'cream-crackered' from our 40/40 exploits, but having taken part in a similar race during our previous visit, we just couldn't resist what was by now a Camber Sands tradition. (I'm almost tempted to refer to it as 'The Great Camber Sands Race', held once every 4 years, as if it were the 'World Cup' of beach racing.)
Ultimately, I think this occasion even bettered the last. It's a beautiful thing how a certain place can have so many wonderful associations. Both Laura and I agreed it would be perfect to take a young McRae junior there in years to come. I love the thought of this little bay being a fond memory for the next generation.
My mate Ian had decided to reprise a fondly remembered trip there a few years ago in celebration of his birthday this weekend.
We lay on the sand, frolicked with a number of balls, round and odd shaped, and even took in a game of 40/40 amongst the sand dunes. For those of you not familiar with the game, in our version, it involved one team (the defenders) using a couple of cricket stumps and hiding them, while the other team (the attackers) had to steal in and snatch one of said stumps without being caught. All great fun!
The day finished with a race to the sea (by the evening a good half a mile away as the tide had retreated). We were all already 'cream-crackered' from our 40/40 exploits, but having taken part in a similar race during our previous visit, we just couldn't resist what was by now a Camber Sands tradition. (I'm almost tempted to refer to it as 'The Great Camber Sands Race', held once every 4 years, as if it were the 'World Cup' of beach racing.)
Ultimately, I think this occasion even bettered the last. It's a beautiful thing how a certain place can have so many wonderful associations. Both Laura and I agreed it would be perfect to take a young McRae junior there in years to come. I love the thought of this little bay being a fond memory for the next generation.
2005
2009
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