Splash and shiver

It's now three days since we Whites returned from almost a week on the Causeway Coast of my native Northern Ireland.

It's taken me this long to report back because, well, we've all been a little bit tired.

This despite the kids still being too young to go to the Railway Arms.

Or the Portstewart Arms.

Although foodie places did let them in

Jamie and I had our annual dip on Barry's big one.

Whilst Mummy joined him, Charlotte and cousin Katie on the whirly-twirly-up-and-downy-thingy.

Our trip also included a visit to Water World which was supposed to close down last year but they couldn't find the key to lock it up.

However, there was one particular episode which will live long in my very cold bones.  And it's all as simple as ABC.

Jamie and Charlotte had gone for a paddle at the White Rocks beach on Saturday, before Jamie got carried away and went right in.  He emerged shortly afterwards complaining about potential damage to his undercarriage.

I mentioned this on Facebook, which led to the issue of a very kind invitation from my lovely friend Julie Smyth.  It was for Jamie to join the foolhardy members of the Arcadia Bathing Club (yes, ABC) in immersing themselves in the Atlantic Ocean at 10.30 the following morning.

These madsters meet at the same time every Sunday, 12 months of the year.  The purpose?  There are actually quite a few. "Bathing, swimming, body surfing, drinking coffee and doing a little bit of work for charity."  And there's just one rule.  "No wetsuits - be brave."

Jamie was immediately up for the challenge.  I thought he was bonkers - the innocence of youth - but said we'd take him.  Then I drank 10 pints of Guinness and informed Julie I'd do it too. 

It took me a few minutes the next morning to recall my pledge.  And then the horror of what I'd done hit me.  But, as one of the most fundamentally decent human beings I've met, Julie was not someone I was prepared to let down.

So Jamie had his moment, Charlotte had another paddle and I made a complete fool of myself in front of lots of strangers.

Some of them became my friends afterwards over hot coffee.

As I was trudging out, I said to a lady: "I've never given birth but it can't be worse than that."

She looked at me, all pale, pathetic and shivering (me not her), and replied: "It certainly doesn't look like you'll be able to have any more children."  Indeed.  Even going to the loo proved to be a challenge until almost lunchtime.

All good fun and highly recommended but, eff me, it was freezing.  If the good people at ABC want to raise a bit more money for charity, I suggest that a swear box is an obvious way to go.