What might you expect from a day at the seaside with Big G? All sorts of strange and wonderful things it turns out…

Dear NWB readers,

How - one might ask - can this tourist spot serve the elite rock-fondler? As swarms of round pink people wobble across the pools, as dog walkers clutch their dump-bags and lovers pick secluded spots and kids follow to spy on them and gulls steal sandwiches and the ice cream vans chug to cool their wares and fishermen wave their rods at non-existent fish and mouth-breathing jet-skiers gather at the jetty and teenagers follow their phones along the beach - what is there for us?

Well...turn from the noise and the frivolity and look you to the house on the rise; pride of place. Look on that multi-levelled many-roofed house and know fear. Clearly the place is severely haunted; inundated, crammed to busting with ghosts. You may occasionally see people going into the house, but you will never see ’em coming out!

Well-now; beneath the house, at its rocky southern defences we find at the retreat of the tide a deep natural cavern with a nice pebble landing. Its surfaces have been smoothed by the passage of time and tide (and ghosts.)
The cavern’s east side offers a longish foot-peddling traverse on jugs, (starting at pebble level in good conditions.) Its west side sports a series of bulges, the precise grasping of which must be led by the wit and power of the beholder.

Seaward from here we come to the enigmatic Key-Stone Cave; a curious feature which can be climbed on at low tide, where access may be gained below the ‘Key’ and an udging boulderer could-in-theory squirm successfully sky-ward.

The rest of the rock here is the type of jagged crap best left to climbers.

Blessed are the Para-normal; for they have a cool strength-to-weight ratio.

Lov, Big G

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