At the end of an incredibly difficult couple of weeks, we found we had some unexpected time to ourselves. We knew we needed a day-trip, and one which involved a good lunch and the sound of waves lapping against the shore. We flirted with the idea of going somewhere new, heading West instead of East, looking for a one-night-stand kind of getaway. But in the end we couldn’t shake the feeling that we were cheating on our long-term lover and so we grabbed the cameras, pushed the roof down and escaped along the familiar coastal road to North Berwick.

But in the end we couldn’t shake the feeling that we were cheating on our long-term lover and so we grabbed the cameras, pushed the roof down and escaped along the familiar coastal road to North Berwick.

One of us could barely contain her desire for a (toasted mango chicken) Sandwich at Tiffany’s and so we ditched the car in town and headed straight for lunch. Duly satisfied, we did the requisite nosy round the shops, taking home the most lovely metal parcel tags and 20 of these cute little pegs from Tippecanoe. We don’t quite have a use for them as yet, but one will undoubtedly emerge. Incidentally, Tippecanoe’s bags are made out of recycled newspaper by a project which supports street children in India. Very cool. Very good. Very green.

From the shops to the beach, and from the beach to the putting green. One of us was feeling confident after her stellar performance over the peaks and troughs of the Himalayas. The other one of us was beginning to regret the handicap she’d been given and was was keen to reconsider the scoring system. There would be no need for a review, however, as the Little One’s winning streak came to an abrupt end in a tense sudden death drama on the 18th after we were all square.

We felt like we had not a care in the world. It couldn’t have been further from the truth, but it felt like it for that afternoon at least.