"The cliffs of England stand. Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!" Mathew Arnold captured the moment when victoriously writing his poem Dover Beach.
After a year of funerals, work challenges, navigating under turbulent weather conditions, I found myself in a relay team from Samphire Hoe towards Cap Griz Nez.
Meant as a grandmummy team, only three of us qualified as such, whereas the other three kept changing participation due to medicals, obligations or frailties.