Friday dawned bright and blustery and MWNN's cold got heavier.
After a morning of conversation, tea, and an early lunch, I left MWNN dozing on the sofa by the fire, and took Ron for a much-needed walk.
Twelve minutes of brisk walking along the quay outside the cottage, took us the the RNLI station near the mouth of the estuary,
A few more minutes brought us to the Museum in the car park at the mouth of the estuary,
Then it was a short hop and skip to Ron's (and my) favourite English beach,
We've seen higher waves and the temperature was mild. Ron was keen to paddle and wanted a game of chase.
We don't play ball games on the beach, because Ron swallows so much sand if we do. He doesn't approve of inactivity, Here he is letting me know what he thinks about it.
After a short stroll along the deserted seashore towards Gun Hill, we turned around and headed back to the cottage,
Ron spotted a couple of King Charles Cavaliers, but they made it clear they didn't do water play, so he soon lost interest,
MWNN was rested after his hour's nap, so we headed into town to shop for our visitors who were arriving on Saturday.
On our return to the cottage, I picked up an email from our landlord, warning us of a flood alert.
|Storm gate at the front door|
We put up the three storm gates, moved the car over the other side of the dyke, and settled down beside the fire for an anxious few hours until high tide.
|Quayside completely under water|
The water started creeping across the car park at about 9pm.
By 10pm, it had entered the front drive of the cottage
|Water in through the gates of the cottage|
and was making its way towards the front steps.
Just after 11pm, the Harbour Inn tweeted that is had reached its peak,
Not a drop of water entered the house and we kept both power and wifi signal. Lowestoft Weather Warnings kept us up-to-date throughout.
Quite an adventure, but one that paled into insignificance as the news from Paris unfolded.