The time when we change our minds, say %!#$ it, and turn around.
When we woke up this morning we decided we needed a day of rest and that Hartland Quay was the perfect place to get it. So we took the bus to Hartland, which is the closest the bus comes to the quay, and hitched a ride from a wonderful woman named Pat, who is the friend of Merlyn, who is an artist and who I will write an entire page about later. Hartland Quay is a wild and windy little alcove off the Atlantic. Not many wander way out here. The closest bus stop is miles from the coast; food and drink and accommodations are not easy to get to; and you are miles and years away from the world. It's exhilarating. The air is different.