Seapoint; A quick note
Storm Ali was flying the plane to Dublin. His sidekick, the British Airways pilot said it was his second worst landing. He declined to comment on whether he had walked or been carried from his worst. I then lost my driving licence so my wife drove me to Seapoint. All good omens.
Seapoint that morning was the point at which the sea meets the sand and the sky and the waves. WM Turner was thought to have been using his imagination to paint those vortex seascapes. In fact he must have been to Seapoint on a day like this, never mind Margate. The sand exfoliated the skin, the salt was rubbed into the abrasions whilst you dodged the outside furniture careering about like it was on the deck of the Titanic. And somewhere out there there was a golf course.
No golf today, the only people who benefit form a day like this are the ballmakers. Fortunately the club have offered to extend a round in aid of Alzheimer’s Society and I look forward to returning to Termonfeckin which must be Irish for ‘gentle zephyrs’.