Like the departure of the swifts for Africa, the first leaf fall and my loved one asking for the central heating to be turned on, there are some signs that winter is approaching.
On a dawn patrol last week at the West Pier, Brighton, I duckdived 3 waves in a row and got the unmistakable dread of my first ice cream headache of the season. It was only a day later when I opened my National Geographic that I learned it’s caused by ‘the direct result of the rapid cooling and rewarming of the capillaries in the sinuses‘. The article referred to eating ice cream or drinking cold beverages, rather than immersing oneself in a murky English Channel. To counteract brain-freeze, it recommended sipping the cold beverage more slowly.
Given the fact that the sewage of about 200 000 local people is discharged into the sea after only being liquidised*, I think I’ll disregard National Geographic’s recommendation to nibble on poo sorbet and dig out my trusty neoprene bonnet.
*a replacement sewage treatment plant should have been built by the turn of this century but its not operating yet.