(Click on the picture to see it in all its glory)

Can you believe this view? I was there last week with my daughter, its a gorgeous little spot on the south coast in Dorset.

If you have the weather in England, you don't ned no Paella, or Lasagne or Doner Kebabs, oh no. Fish and chips besides the sea side all round.

Until the clouds turn up of course

So I've tried this friending thing on blog.co.uk thing.

All bar 4 have responded positively. In the sense of hitting the accept button. One has hit the deny option (something I said perhaps) 3 just didn't do nish.

Initially when I started this thing I wasn't too bothered about the community thing. I just wanted a space to sound off and vent that didn't interfere with some of my other blogs that are tightly defined around niches and themes.

The odd thing is, i've noticed that you do get into the whole 'people' thing with it all, you actually get interested in people and what they write about. I actually make it a point in my day to stop by at some peoples blogs and read what they are up to.At times I've even found that my own stuff has in some ways become secondary. No bad thing of course. A learning experience even.

Are you a friend slut? Do you take anyone onboard, or do you have to feel some kind of connection/interest? Perhaps they commented on your stuff, perhaps its meaniningless even, a bit of harmless internet silliness that has little resonance or bearing in your day to day existence. Or maybe you are a big numbers person and will do anything to get your number up.

Personally I couldn't give a stuff, Well, maybe that isn't entirely true; it's nice to be part of a group I accept that, but I'd hate to fall into some little clique trap too. That would be stifling.

Heart thumps hard, legs push and fight, steadily resisting the inclines might.Sinews strained, body jars, hands grasp hard on handlebars.Pulling them in to gain some grip, sweat trickles down drip drip drip.The brow is wet, sweat stings the eye, breathing laboured, desperate sighs. Muscles ache, cursed by acid, begging them to slow, aching to be flaccid.Can't stop now, got to keep pushing, the crest now visible, beckons its cushion. Rest is promised, a drink of water, to help recover from this slaughter. Daren't quit now, so near the top, step down a gear to resist a flop Push once more and make some gain, grunt and moan to ease the pain. Ten more cycles and then I'll stop, I'm gonna make it to that hilltop.