Wednesday 19 September 2012

The beast of Bugle Hole

 I was fixated on having a sunset  swim, and was determined to do so at Bugle Hole. The weather earlier had been glorious, but when Rachel and I set off it was dreary and drizzling. On arrival at Mothecombe it was still resolutely grey, but we trudged on. It's a Janus of of a swimming spot, with different faces at high and low tide. A keyhole shape, at high it is a perfect pool, and at low, a rocky void. We got into the calm water, a lovely contrast to the choppy sea outside. As we swam, something wonderful started to happen. The skies began to brighten around us, and then turned blotchy blue and pink; there was a golden glow on the rocky islands out at sea.  We whooped with delight as we finally got our sunset. The spell was then rudely broken when we  decided to investigate a corner of the pool where, at low tide, there's a cave. We leapt out of our skins when, all of a sudden,  a rude spray of water, accompanied by a terrifying  rumble, spurted out of a hole in the rocks. The Beast of Bugle Hole was obviously telling us to clear off. 

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