The unexpected naturist

I don't know whether I would call it a 'highlight' of my recent trip to the Sheep's Head, but it was one of the more memorable moments.

To escape the indoor fug I sauntered to Doonin pier, a very pleasant short distance from my kind host's house, where I began to chat to a friendly fisherman about normal things, eg fish. He pointed out a small shoal of grey mullet. The conversation turned to swimming, and he told me how he couldn't swim but would like to do so. I shared my thoughts on my own learning experience, after which he volunteered to show me a few interesting geographical facets of the rocky outcrop. At first we had a very pleasant walk around the bog, over the granite, past the sheep bones etc, then onto the most picturesque tiny secluded bay imaginable. The colour of the blue-green water was phenomenal, and the way it framed the sea and the land beyond was dreamlike. Gorgeous.

This is a very secluded bay and the fisherman (who is a builder by day) told me that it's a place for naturists. I could well believe it. It seemed a terribly peaceful spot, only disturbed by the birds, who sounded angry we were too near their homes. He asked me if I minded if he took off his clothes and vacant-me thought he just meant his shirt. Unfortunately, he meant more than that. I tried to ignore his lack of apparel for a few paces, suppressing my urge to giggle which I feared might have given him a wrong signal. But after a few moments, I summoned up the courage to tell him to put them back on again in my best English voice: 'I'm sorry, but it's freaking me out, do you mind ... ?'

Trying to forget what I had glimpsed, a rather difficult task, I concentrated on the amazing rock formations, the cavernous drops, the displaced boulders, the two white bollards marking Concorde's flight path for America. It was very educational.

Pie on the peninsula

Have rolled in sweaty and suntanned from my long weekend with sheep and poets.

Highlights have been: a geography trip with an unexpected naturist, cuddling a baby lamb that nuzzled my hand, getting lightly spotted by short-lasting raindrops and dried in the hot sun by the deep blue ocean and taking a strange Wicker Man walk to a lighthouse at the end of the world sustained by a homemade apple and rhubarb pie.

More details over the next week, which I'll be dispensing in dribs and drabs, now for a shower.