The perils of small islands

I’ve learnt a valuable lesson today, one which I will probably have forgotten in a few weeks time, but one that is now etched into my arms and the end of my legs.

When you are on a small island in the Atlantic, where the seas are crystal clear and the grey white rock on the island glimmers in the beating sun, reapplying sun tan cream every 90 minutes is not frequent enough!

I kept slapping it on, and I though it was working, I couldn’t feel anything burning, but no, by the time I got off the boat back in Biddeford, Lundy had left a mark on my skin which will take at least a couple of days to (hopefully) fade to a well deserved tan.

I’m not even quite certain why I burnt. As I said I was reapplying the sun tan cream liberally every 90 minutes, or even more frequent at some points, It was a highish strength cream.

I don’t think it can be anything to do with walking around an island for seven hours during the main part of the day, as the Met office officially warn of the start of a heatwave, that would have nothing to do with it...

An Ode to AirCon

I’ve just wandered down to breakfast, and on the way walked passed an open door. I thought for a moment that a heater must be on the blink as the wall of heat that engulfed me for a second or so was un-imaginable.

Just in case I decided on a closer look and discovered that the source of the heat was approximately 8 light minutes away being the large glowing object currently rising high into the sky.

On walking back into the hotel I was hit by the cooling sensation of air-con set to “freeze” mode.

I dread to think what it has done to my carbon footprint (ignoring on the one had the obscene number of flights I make and on the other the fact I have never owned a car), but with the temperatures, and more importantly the humidity at these levels at 9am I am glad for AirCon.