Since giving one of my leaving-home children the excellent picture book “Puffling” by that hero of children’s literature, Margaret Wild, I have been enamoured of the birds. I became a little too attached to the idea of seeing them – not obsessed, just certain that my three months away would not be complete without it.
So, upon arriving in Flamborough, close to the cliffs of the North Sea, I was keen to get a start on the business of finding them. It was a bit of a haul to the cliffs. (Leave by the gate opposite the Rose and Crown then head diagonally towards the fields. Ooh, I do like using that word and, better still, ‘meadow’). On the way we passed a bizarre holiday area. I took heaps of photos to get a full bead on the situation. I don’t know if people want to be this close together or if they accept it because the situation has some of what they want eg beautiful scenery – for that one can put up with a lot. Continue reading