A muddy, peaty trail and a scramble over some rocks brings you to a wild beach.
The beach is loud with the sound of the surf. The kids used to spend all day fishing and playing there with limpets and sea urchins for snacks when they got hungry between meals (the fish they caught was lunch and dinner). They’d help the farmer in with the hay and spend the reward on a treat of ‘rabas’ de calamar in the village bar. We went to look and it was all still there, even the same barman was still there.
A couple of miles away in Liencres we were the only brave souls at the dunes in wild weather.
On the back beach there they used to gather cockles at low tide.
These are bittersweet memories, though, it seems. The family had no income since Dad had lost his job at the docks. While foraging sounds like a lark to us today…