As we walked to Mansands we wondered about the name. Maybe something to do with the very muscular, virtually vertical hills which lead down to the shore, or perhaps the man-sized pebbles which clutter the beach. Whatever, it was just us women swimming (with an all-male onshore support team). It felt like a remote part of Scotland, especially with the croft-like cottage overlooking the beach. The sea was flat apart from surprisingly gentle rollers breaking; they looked much fiercer than they actually were. We swam over to the Southern side of the beach where we found caves, before swimming around the headland, through a rather choppy gully, where we got an enticing glimpse of the next deserted beach.