I went out for a brief walk around the town and rested a while in the Queens Hotel where I met some of the local people. Tony, a man from elsewhere but who had lived here for about 30 years was the first to offer some banter. He worked abroad mostly, and I guessed it was one of those types of jobs that he couldn't talk about too much. He made a gesture towards me before he left that touched me deeply, it will help enormously. Stewart the barman bought me a nice stiff whiskey too, as I could tell he was paying attention to my conversation with Tony and then Martin. Martin a local man with love woes, was doing what most of us might in such circumstances, though it is often the least best thing to do on balance.
I walked along the top of the cliffs to the east side on my return and then back to the hotel for a bite to eat and a warm drink. Strangely enough, again no-one seemed in the least bit curious as to ask me anything about my bag and the walk ahead, even when I had thrown a few loose statements into the conversation. Maybe they have just zoned out, having seen so many people passing by here. It was an hotel after all and they do cater for all and sundry being so close to the only big airport for miles.
As I approached the sandy beach, guess who I bumped into. Yes, the Australians Vicky and Christian, who is a giant of a man, at 6'8''. I made a comment about how they kept popping up wherever I go. I thought that they had come here the day, after they had asked me directions to the place. Anyway it was great to see them and see that they had been like me, litter picking. They said that the plastic can kill the turtles, and so had collected it, not that the beach was particularly covered in it. Later I also brought some and put it in the bins. Then I met more people who had been at the hostal, and we briefly exchanged a chat.