Recycling.

 

Monday dawns bright and fair.

Ten minutes later it's clouded over. We may not have a surfeit of sunshine but out here on the coast we have rainbows. Lots of them. This mornings is a stunner.

Today, after a brisk toweling dry in the back of the car,  the family diva looks vaguely like a dog that has had a distant and fleeting relationship with grooming. This is an improvement over her more usual wet and muddy 'wild girl' look.

By the time we've made it to the cafe on the sea front the mist is rolling in. It seems that the golf club is having a total rebuild. The area around it is being excavated to create room for a large underground leisure centre for the members. From the look of the car park the golf club must pay well. Despite the fact that it's barely dawn there's already a steady stream of builders and electricians arriving to start work. We opt to park elsewhere. The cafe owner says the work is scheduled to take eighteen months. He thinks three, possibly four, years is a more likely timeframe.

At this time of the morning there are parking spaces in the centre of town. Give it an hour and they'll be hard to find. The first students are heading off to the library. The students ignore Sophie but the Polish cleaning ladies take time off from their cigarette break to greet her. The family diva is walked, on her lead, down the road to the hotel where the French breakfast chef works. She is rewarded with a lukewarm sausage. This has been left unfinished on the plate of a Canadian golfer . Sophie is a firm believer in the benefits of recycling. I'm less sure. The chef says that all the hotels are full. He puts this down to the 30% collapse of the £ against the $. ' We're booked full with Americans all the way through to New Year ' he adds. Sophie's future may contain more sausages to be recycled.