Friday, 29 June 2012

The Proposal - Part 2

Setting off on such an adventure on a minimal budget meant no fancy hotel breakfast for us, instead we casually left the Bristol hotel quite early and dashed for the local Wetherspoons pub to engage in a few 99p coffees and a spot of birthday card opening with a tasty wholesome breakfast. Luckily the pub was empty so we had a rather nice lot of room to display all my lovely cards for a good half hour. I was now officially thirty years old and although I didn’t look any different, I certainly felt like this was going to be an exciting day, what with a planned trip to the beach and a bottle of champagne from a friend waiting to be popped in the sand dunes. I mean, how decadent are my thirties starting out? 99p coffee for breakfast and champagne for lunch. Bring it on!

Once we left Bristol and set off for my favourite place in the world, heavy rain showers and glorious sunny spells teased us all the way down, never knowing which side the weather coin would land. As we arrived in Cornwall, I kid you not, the clouds parted and the sun won the battle and the temperature soared. As we arrived at the beach, the warmth of the sun made my face light up and I distinctly remember a conversation that went like this. ‘Don’t you want to take your coat off? It’s gorgeous now.’ That was me to other half. ‘Nope’ he said as we passed surf dudes stripped to the waist and girls in small shorts and flip flops  ‘I’m still not quite warm enough’.’ Weirdo’, I remember thinking.

After taking in the beautiful beach scene, we trek up to the sand dunes and nestle in a little spot overlooking the bay and enjoy the contrasting weather from the day before. We even risk popping the old sunglasses on, knowing that such an action might tip the weather scales, but hey we are fearless in the face of superstition. Sometimes. After a rather relaxing time, I suggest we crack open the bubbly, only to be told no. What is he thinking? It’s my blooming birthday. How rude to not let me open my own bottle of champagne on my birthday. Decadence isn’t the same if you’re told repeatedly to ‘let’s wait for a bit’. So I settle back into the sunshine to enjoy the view of the beach instead. Our plastic champagne flutes not far from my side.

And then the rather handsome other half gets up and kneels in front of me on one knee. Mistakenly I think he’s coming in for a kiss and I wonder why he’s only balancing on one knee on such a precarious sand dune. But then again, he looks a little nervous as he fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a small blue box. Well, what else can I say? We finally got to open the bottle of bubbly which overzealously popped, splashing the winter coat used to conceal the gorgeous ring. And the dream day continued with rock pooling and beach combing whilst holding the hand of the man of my dreams and then setting up camp next to my tiny little car. How many dreams can come true in one day? What a lucky girl I am.

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