Sunday afternoon is a leisurely one. We roll along the coast, marvel at white horses on hillsides and stand in a traffic jam for a leisurely 45 minutes because an Ironman (triathlon) is taking place in one of the communities on our way and there is a road closure.
At some point we arrive in the small town of Lyme Regis. This promises to be a little highlight. It has a promenade. Whatever Gerd likes about promenades, here he has another one to marvel at.
The "Pearl of Dorset", as the town is also called, welcomes thousands of visitors today, on a sunny Sunday. Here a café, there a bar. On the promenade we listen to the town's orchestra and in the water we watch those who just can't resist jumping into the Atlantic at 14° Celsius.
Otherwise, there is not much to report about this Sunday, we look for a nice and internet-receptive pitch, as always on Sundays, and look forward to the two working days, which, apart from a lot of work, especially bring structure and peace into our travelling life.
Merci for "travelling with us
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