Brace yourself for a swift seaside sojourn, including a pint-sized Queen, a leaky Prince, a much-missed yacht, some castles and two scarlet legs.
The legs are mine. Mrs F and I are on England’s south coast during a brief break that began in north Wales.
It’s persistently blistering weather, during which shorts and T-shirts are de rigueur. I’ve been slapping on sun cream faster than a plasterer on piece-work which has left me slipperier than a snake in a soap factory.