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It’s been pretty mediocre weather in Devon so far this week, but finally this afternoon the clouds broke and blue sky peeked through and we took the dog for a walk up towards the hills and then down toward the beach. I have been to this town a few times before but never ventured out this way and we passed through beautiful meadows of wild flowers and discovered a hidden sewage works. Even in paradise they need to do a shit.
Make a motivational poster of that.
We didn’t climb up the hill, though I might try that on a solo dog walk as I fear I am undoing all the hard work of the diet, and veered off back towards the beach. Wolfie went mental at the sight of the sand and started whirling like a dervish.
We encamped on the beach, but Phoebe was keen to climb the huge sand bank behind us, so me and her went on an expedition which again tested my bravery to its limits. Phoebe didn’t seem scared at all, perhaps unaware of how many people have died on Everest this year, and they all had proper mountaineering equipment, whilst we were in trainers and sandals. The slightest slip could send us careering down the slope. And there were some nasty twigs sticking out that could have given us a graze. Was I being a terrible or brilliant father by risking my daughter’s life in this way? Or was she being a brilliant daughter by teaching me to be bold, when I have lived a life of cowardly caution.
We pressed onwards, probably going thousands of feet above sea level, and managed to reach the summit where we could look down on the whole beach in front of us and see Phoebe’s mummy and Nanna waving at us.
Phoebe needed a wee, so I held on to her as she went right at the top of the mound. This is known in mountaineering as the Herring Move. To conquer something and then micturate upon it. At least she has inherited something from her father.
Every day of a holiday should create one memory and this was today’s. For me at least. I got my daughter up and down this vertiginous slope in one piece. And more importantly I got myself up and down in one piece.
I did take some time to regret how my caution and reticence has denied me so many opportunities in my life, though I guess it has helped get me to this grand old age of nearly 52. I hope my daughter continues to grasp existence by two hands and not be afraid of rolling down a slope made of sand.
Sadly Richard E Grant’s people did not relent and we’ve not been allowed to put out the excellent podcast I did with him (genuinely in my top three all time favourites and Richard was even more magnificent than you would hope) but the good news is you get this one with Tiffany Stevenson a week early
Avoid the disappointment of podcasts that can’t be broadcast or have bits edited out by coming to
see the show live. 
