Baby Lighthouse has run off towards the dangerous ocean.

Daddy Light House not pleased.

Almost right away – its Sid!

But what’s this? It’s Sid’s seal-mate, Sheila.

Round that point and to that Head and I can have my banana and water break.

Clouds are brewing something over the mountains.

Sid is checking in every few minutes.

Endless desolated beach behind. Litter free apart from that red monster of a tennis ball.

He always pops up with his head pointing towards me. This was the last of Sid. He gave a nice honk as he slipped under, nothing to do with me but I can dream. He’s on his way back to pick up a new traveller. Sid and Shelia’s Succouring Seal Lions is his biz. Write – he’ll probably reply.

However, ten minutes later this dude appeared. Late for work at Sid’s so can’t pass the time of day. I turned full into the wind from here and it proved difficult – to say the least.

The watchtowers of Stalag-luffe 4B, still strong after eighty years.

In the middle of nowhere – well it’s all the middle of nowhere – 3 geese or gooses, take your pick.

They be the derelict outlying towers for the prison. So wasn’t far wrong.

Somewhere to sit for a minute. I wish it was out of the wind.

The view from my perch into the North Channel.

It’s been an hour since I saw anything but beach. I approach stealthily.

'You’re joking mate. We’ll just flap out here for a minute, till you pass.'

When the giant Mamannan walked these shores, he occasionally needed the potty. Shame he broke it with his big fat giant arse. The coast guard kept watch to make sure his bowels were regular.

Magnificent desolation behind.

Magnificent desolation ahead. This wind is killing me. I’m down to about a third of normal speed.

Some blessed relief. You may not know it but that leads to the plug in the bottom of the Irish sea. If you want to drain it, you know where to come.

Peel in the far distance. and footsteps. Jesus! I hope that this isn’t a Robinson Crusoe sitch. They dropped litter, the scamps.

Two hours later. It is still too far away. Haven’t managed to get of the wind in all that time and I'm barely moving.

I huddled against the cliff for a few desperate minutes and then fifteen or so later a lovely little cave appears. Perhaps though, I’ve been lucky. Definite female genitalia overtones. Might be the Sirens sleep-over spot.

Finally caught some Cormorants. The buggers tend to take off much too soon. Signs of civilisation.

But no! Another headland. The wind is really f’ing me. I’m down to baby steps to keep moving forward.

Impossible to climb out. More of those slandslides.

At last. Escape beckons. I’m out of the wind.

Forty mins later and the end. A day that started in the loveliest way. Quickly turned into a nightmare. You just can’t know.

Not-sure-I-can-take-anymore face. Waiting for the bus back to Ramsey and a thirty min walk to the hotel.

On the way through Ramsey, spotted this. How to make your joint stand out. Love it.