It’s all about lists!

Right, so, lists. You know about my lists. I have lists for lists, probably. It's a sickness, I admit. But honestly, who doesn't get a little thrill from a good, solid tick? A proper, emphatic tick, like you've just wrestled a badger and won. Anyway, Ayrmer Cove. It's been on the list. For ages. I was starting to wonder if someone had just made it up, like a mythical land where socks never vanish in the dryer.

Now, Ayrmer Cove, see, it's one of those places Mother Nature clearly designed while showing off. Ridiculously photogenic beach. But, and here's the rub, the sun, that big golden orb, has a rather inconvenient habit of setting in the wrong place. Most of the time. I scouted the joint last summer, and it was clear: patience was going to be key. Like waiting for a bus that only runs on leap years.

So, I had to add a subsection to the list. A subsection. It involved high tide, so the "shark fin rock" (which, let's be honest, looks more like a slightly pointy pebble) was nicely surrounded by water, and the sun dipping behind the dramatic coastline (which, to be fair, is quite dramatic). This required some serious planning. Fortunately, there's this thing called the internet. You might have heard of it. It's a vast repository of, well, everything. Including, apparently, the exact astronomical calculations required to predict when a rock, the sea, and the sun will all align for a photograph.

This meant waiting. Waiting until March 2025. Or, if you're feeling particularly keen, September 2025. Either way, it's a long haul. And then, of course, you need a decent sunset. No pressure, Mother Nature, but after all that waiting, you'd better deliver.

So, there you have it. Another tick on the list. A satisfying, deeply nerdy tick. But, as you might have guessed, there are plenty more to come. A terrifying, never-ending, ever-expanding list. It's a curse, really. A beautiful, meticulously organised curse.