Bude was the hottest place in the UK on Tuesday. My son, his missus, our precious one-and-only grandson (aged nearly two and blessed with both my good looks AND my intellect) and Mrs Steve did the relatively gentle walk from Trebetherick, across St Enodoc golf course to the church with the wonky steeple, paying homage at the grave of John Betjeman (on which someone, fittingly, had placed a cloth cap). As the spring tide was so low we had an excellent view of the Doom Bar across the Camel estuary. Then on to the beach at Rock where the little feller had his picnic. Next, across to Padstow on the ferry where we grown-ups found a bench, braved the seagulls and devoured our Chough Bakery pasties, in my view the finest in Cornwall (therefore the world), washed down with tea from the little takeaway hatch with the very nice lady a few yards from the pasty shop. Back across to Daymer Bay on the ferry and a goodly slog in the sunshine on one of Cornwall's finest beaches back to Trebetherick for a cup of char and a flapjack. Now that's what I call a day out.