Chapter 50: The Virgin´s Summer, Part 1, The Summer House

And so, it is Summer. And we are free.

Having driven for an hour or so, we are coming close to our destination. Driving along the coast road, the sea close by, sparkling blue, and the sky an azure dome above, it could not be more perfect.

“According to the sat-nav, we should be nearly there.” says my Master, brow furrowed in puzzlement, “but I can´t see anything. Either of you spot anything I´m missing?”

Certainly, there is nothing that looks like a beach house in sight. There are dunes, pinned in place with tough grasses and with little pink belled creeping plants sprawling across the sand, a couple of small boats moored by a tiny quay, fishermen´s boats perhaps, and a small hotel a mile or so away. It is a gorgeous spot, but there is nothing that resembles the timber-built, wooden shuttered beach house of my imagination.