Chocolate Sea and Sunday Tea
It’s a dank day and Honey and I drive through mizzle all the way to Sidmouth. As we approach Jacob’s Ladder bright red cliffs burn through the hitherto relentless grey and the pale turquoise sea appears to have been invaded by milk chocolate. Great drifts of pebbles like gulls’ eggs clatter then emit an other-worldly shriek as brown waves break and snatch the water back leaving milky rivulets.
Bobbing along in the chill, I notice the headland between here and Ladram is trailing mist and resembles a speeding steam train heading out to sea. Karen is wearing a fur trapper hat so it looks as though she was hit by a flash flood while out hunting.
Ducking under, I’m in an orangey world where I can barely see my own arms, the result of the pulverised chunks of cliff that have plummeted back into the sea after the wettest year in living memory.
We change on the pebble bank, drink tea and chocolate and eat muffins baked by Lesley (spiced banana) and Karen (maple and pecan). Honey mugs several people for their cake and Sidmouth sits cuddled by cliffs while the wind whips in from the sea.