Life's A Beach
There were grey skies over the Highland Capital as Inverness Caley ran onto their home turf for this afternoon´s game with Celtic. In Glasgow, meanwhile, a burst of "biblical" sunshine was making life difficult for my colleagues at Pacific Quay (apparently the robotic blinds were malfunctioning). I know these things because I was following every twist and turn of the game on my BlackBerry as we sat on the beach in Lanzarote. I was reading aloud from the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Scotland live text service and Mrs Zed and the Zedettes agreed that I had missed my calling as a football commentator.
The beach, it has to be said, was one we discovered at the eastern tip of the island. We discovered it by accident, if truth be told, because we were heading for a completely different destination when we suddenly found ourselves driving along the side of a volcano and then down one of those steep scary roads you expect to see in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. It was breath-taking. Really. It must have been the altitude.
And it was all worth it, because we found the beach. There were no rows of sun loungers and no one trying to sell you ice cream every ten minutes. Just sunshine, golden sand and some wonderful waves crashing loudly on the shore. Oh... and a tiny car park equipped with a shower block.
Life doesn´t get much better than this...except that Caley got gubbed two-one, of course.
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