It was a pretty rank morning of wet kit, gusting wind and intermittent rainstorms, between which I stole a nosey round Shingle Street.
When it had all subsided sufficiently, I got moving, with a view to setting up the Thames crossing. At least Walton, but best case scenario, Clacton.
Past Felixstowe, across the Medusa Channel, then under the infinitely long Walton pier. More beach huts than you could shake a paddle at, then Clacton. Easy as that.
Jess made it a stress-free landing and had scoped out a campspot long before I’d arrived. I could get used to this!
The final act of day was a belter. I wandered over to the nearby sailing club to fill water bottles up. It was getting on for midnight and I still had tomorrows lunch to cook. At the sailing club I told of my trip and soon found myself in a world of scotch eggs, garlic bread and a table full of primo pasta salads. After filling my boots I simply couldn’t turn down their offer of a shower.
So a big thankyou today to Ben, Jackie and the whole team at Clacton Sailing Club.
Forecast looks like the crossing is on!!