Maryport has a beach?

I’m not sure exactly why this is news to me. I mean, we do live on the coast on England. Of that much I’m aware. For some reason, though, I thought that there would be rocks or cliffs or some other impassable geographic obstacle between us and the water.

In reality, there’s actually a pretty nice little beach. It’s a bit rocky, but definitely a nice place for a walk on a lazy Saturday. Staggeringly, the beach isn’t covered with trash either. It’s really pleasant.

Matt, Frankie, and I packed up a picnic lunch and went for a walk down by the shore. I had a great time exploring the area by the water’s edge. I’m a water gal. Always have been. There’s nothing I love more than a large body of water, be it lake, pond, or ocean. So, I love the fact that there’s a beach in Maryport. I could lay a blanket out at stare out at the waves for hours.

Matt’s not really a hang-out-on-the-beach kind of guy, though, so we also planned to investigate some hiking trails near the water. Frankie had other ideas. Her plans basically involved attempting to thwart every single attempt we made to go for a hike.

We had only walked a few hundred yards down the trail when she started complaining about how her feet hurt. Fifty more yards, and her neck hurt. Fifty more, and this is what happened:

What did they call this protest technique in the sixties? Passive resistance?

Anyhow, it worked. Rather than cajole her any farther, we gave up and went back home. Maybe we’ll try it another day? It’s possible that we might be working poor Frankie a bit too hard.