A Summer Rendezvous

Beautiful day today, sun shining as though the world knew I was feeling bright and free after months of uni work looming over me like a dark cloud. Packed up the car with a BBQ and drove to Whitley Bay to show my Kiwi the Rendezvous Cafe. It's right on the sea front, dilapidated on the outside it doesn't look much, but it's a throw-back from a typical English seaside resort that's been left unloved. Traditional places like these should be listed, not left to trickle into nothingness. But for now the Rendezvous Cafe keeps on going strong. It reminisces school canteens and church halls, a fusion of old age pensioners and screaming children; serving up Tunnocks teacakes and icecream sundaes. I indulged in a banoffee cheesecake, while my Kiwi was served up vegetable soup that looked like the kind of gruel served in Oliver, and a white bun in a plastic packet. He looked enviously at my pie, but he knows better than to try and make me share my food.

As usual, it was grey skies and cold winds down by the North Sea, and nobody likes sandy marinade on their BBQ'd chicken legs, so we got back in the car to chase some rays. We found them in Jesmond Dene, where we weren't the only ones who had packed a grill. We were the only one's who packed a football shaped one, but that was Kiwi's choice. I used the rare heatwave to strip off and try out wearing a bikini top in public. Not entirely convinced that it's acceptable to get your belly out unless it's been subjected to at least some exercise efforts so I gave it 10 minutes before putting my top back on. I'm a closet exhibitionist who loves the naked body in all its glory. Just not mine, yet. It's tankini's only until I get going with the new running thing I'm trying out.