‘What Is Your Tactic?’


As stated yesterday, Jackie drove us late in the afternoon to Steamer Point Nature Reserve where she parked the car and we walked down to Friar’s Cliff beach.

Here is the origin of the name of this area:

The Steamer sign

From the Nature Reserve, we could see

Steamer Point beach

Highcliffe to our left,

Couple on beachIsle of White, The Neeles, and lighthouse

The Isle of Wight and The Needles straight ahead,

Friar's Cliff Beach

and Friar’s Cliff Beach to the right.

Woman and two dogs

WhippetWoman and dogs on beach 1

A number of people were exercising their dogs on the sands

Woman and dogs on beach 2

and in the water.

Women, boys, and dog on beachBoys and dog on beachPewople and dogs on beach, Isle of Wight, The Needles

Two boys joined in.

No dogs on the beach

It was not until I had moved along towards Friar’s Cliff Beach that I saw this notice.

The Beach Hut cafe

It was just as well that I photographed the beach yesterday, because steady rain set in for the day as we entered The Beach Hut Café.

The reason we were here was that Jackie, drinking coffee here yesterday whilst I was photographing, had noticed Olympics breakfast on the menu. This was apparently something of a challenge, and came with a ‘no sharing’ rule. We decided I would try it for brunch. Our initial disappointment at its no longer being on offer was dismissed when we explained that we had only come for this treat and we were told that, in that case, they would produce one. This, of course, meant that I was really on my mettle. No way could I fall down on the challenge. Even though I did not know what this meal would contain. Jackie opted for the Big Breakfast which was, in itself, quite a challenge, but

Olympics breakfast

nothing like this, which was placed in front of me with a certain amount of glee.

I had barely begun when Danny emerged from the kitchen and asked me ‘What is your tactic?’ Seeing that I clearly didn’t have one, our young friend, who had managed the feat on one occasion himself, suggested making sandwiches with the toast. As there were three fried eggs and six half rounds of toast, that is what I did.

In fact, I found myself imagining that I was in a generous Indian restaurant and reaching the painful stage when it was only my determination not to leave anything that kept me going. This helped, as did the periodic visits of the catering staff who informed me that I was ‘the best yet’, when I still had some way to go. Perhaps being a former marathon man trained to run through the pain barrier was of equal assistance.

Olympic breakfast nearly there

When I was on the final lap, Jackie demanded the camera,

Olympic breakfast last mouthful

and stayed poised for the last mouthful,

Olypic breakfast all done

and the empty plate.

I swear My Grandfather’s Shirt was not so tight before I sat down.

Should anyone feel inclined to enquire about my evening meal, I would simply refer them to my brunch.