We spent the afternoon at the beach. It was cold, but the sun was out and we found an incredible array of rocks, including one that resembled the Madonna and child. Alas, a lovely day was tarnished by a thief who stole Lulu's camera. It was not an expensive camera, but we lost all the photos she had amassed on the trip. We decided to bury our sorrows at the local pub, which was filled with a bunch cranky Englishmen, one of whom declared: "There isn't a woman a love who knows what off sides means. Not one." I made the mistake of tipping the bartender. She later returned the tip to Jono, saying, "I own the place. I don't charity." Or something like that. Ouch. 
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