A reluctant, less than keen start to the day did not however inhibit the remainder.  While I won’t say it was a grind, getting through breakfast was mechanical. Under such circumstances, mindless habit pays off – fresh fruit as usual, ham slices, fried egg, sliced cherry tomatoes, green pepper chunks and Stilton cheese.  Black coffee naturally.

It was just after noon when we repaired to our bicycles.  The southwesterly wind was strong. We entered the beach at Tower Beach and pretty much sailed to Coligny Park in the yellow sunshine under a cloudless sky.  After a short pause at Coligny Park it was onto the office of the estate agent to collect a much anticipated envelope from our banker. Then back home.  While cycling homewards I decided when I got home to drive to the chiropractor’s office in Shelter Cove.  And what a good thing that was!  I came out of the clinic standing upright for the first time in months!  The doctor was uncommonly aggressive but apparently it was precisely what was required.  I’m already planning a return visit.

Given the spectacularly clear weather we thought of going to the Oyster Factory on Broad Creek for dinner this evening.  The view promised to be wonderful.  But when we arrived there we discovered that like so many other places on the Island, the restaurant was closed on Mondays.  So we opted instead for Hudson’s Seafood House on the Docks.  We have never been disappointed there and this evening was no exception.  Though everything from the She Crab soup to the Tile fish to the Key Lime pie/Brandy Bread pudding was superb, the real zinger was the oysters – Blue Point from Connecticut and Beausoleil from New Brunswick. The person in charge of shucking the oysters was masterful!  The oysters were still chilled and salty.  We only added a squeeze of lemon juice to the existing perfection!

Motoring on Hilton Head Island after sunset is risky business.  By design there are virtually no street lights.  The Island is black! Fortunately for us, after seven years here we’ve learned our way about the regular paths of travel.  When we got home we checked our email as always.  My sister had sent the new telephone numbers for my niece and her husband who recently moved to Los Angeles to pursue their dreams in search of fame and fortune in the entertainment business. I took a chance and pressed one of the telephone numbers on my computer and – voilà! – we were connected by FaceTime.  We were treated to a very agreeable conversation and a tour of their digs.  They updated us on their current personal and professional undertakings and I have to say it was with considerable glee that I reported accordingly to my sister and her husband about the delightful conversation we had had with their daughter and son-in-law.  I suddenly felt immeasurably more sympathetic to the universal interest of grandparents – their grandchildren!