unScottish weather. Marcel of course decided it'd be cooler to hang about at his friend's house so the three little ones and I set out for Ayrshire. Given both Anna and Léon wouldn't care where they landed as long as there was a sandy beach, I decided the obvious choice was Prestwick given it has free parking and is less than half an hour from the house.
We arrived at 1-30, spread out the picnic blanket, made sand castles and collected shells. After an hour or so Charlotte noticed her swimsuit had been left in the buggy from a previous trip elsewhere. She asked to go for a swim. Believe me it isn't too common to hear your child ask to go for a swim in Ayrshire... in fact the last time I went for a swim in Ayrshire myself was on a trip in 1980! I still remember it was bloody cold! (And that was years before I became accustomed to my beloved Mediterranean!)
She seemed to skip in like we were on the South coast of Spain. Léon took off his shorts and followed swiftly. Puzzled, I picked up Anna and waded in in my skirt. The water was noticeably warmer than it usually is in Cannes in July! I stand amazed.