There's nothing more exciting, even now in the later years of our life, to feel the glee and wispy excitement of looking out of a car window and seeing, usually just off to the right, the sea and the horizon and all of a sudden you realise that you're almost there, right there, at the seaside and your mind boggles with an overloaded smorgasboard of fun and adventure to be had.

I miss the seaside, I miss the sleepy Cornish roads, beetling aimlessly up and down the hills and over the vales, with signposts to 'got to be made up' village names and the odd cunt in a VW van who happily turns off the route that youre on. Even if it rains for a week or where youre staying is wiped out by a freak storm, that initial first buzz, first glimpse, the first kiss of discovery through the languid sunshine and sleepy fields is frankly insurpassable.

Is it summertime yet?