
Hornsea Mere sits just west of the little seaside town of Hornsea. It is two miles long and has a maximum depth of twelve feet. When I was young, I rowed upon it for it was in the orbit of my teenage landscape just six miles east of the inland village where I was raised.
Once a lakeside homeowner ran down to the bottom of his garden and yelled, "You can't row here! It's private property!"
"How can it be private property?" I yelled back. "It's a lake!"
Tony has been recuperating from a serious health blow - namely a mild but significant stroke. It has knocked the wind out of his sails and he sleeps more than usual, suffers from a degree of memory loss and is so nervous about his mobility that he now carries a walking stick (see above). However, his prospects are good.
His phone measured our step count - 23,000 steps in total for the entire walk - apparently around eleven miles according to an online calculator but neither of us could believe that figure for a moment. More like seven miles maximum.
Afterwards we visited one of my old haunts on the seafront - "The Marine Hotel" where we enjoyed a late lunch of burgers with chips and cold non-alcoholic drinks with ice. From our table by a picture window, we looked east across Bridlington Bay and dreamt of Holland - another 230 miles away.