In training...

One of the great things about having children is that they stop you being lazy. On Sunday, I was having a cup of tea after breakfast and looking forward to a relaxing day at home when Melissa suddenly said ‘Why don’t we go to the beach?’

Twenty minutes later, we were all loaded up and heading to Fairbourne, near Barmouth. By 10am, we were soaking up glorious sunshine on a practically deserted beach.

Harry quickly assumed the role of foreman, ordering Melissa and me to build sandcastles. Any slacking was punished with a shout from Harry and a determined prod.

In between all the sandcastle building, it struck me again just how impressive Fairbourne beach is, with its stunning backdrop and endless sand. I’m always puzzled why this part of the world is not packed when the weather’s good. Still, being so quiet suited us and Harry had plenty of freedom to run around the sand, and splash through the rock pools.

After an hour or so of this, Harry plucked up enough courage to head towards the sea. Although a little nervous at first, he was soon wading into the water – shorts and all. Seconds later, he was sat down splashing away in the waves, absolutely wet through.

He didn’t want to get out but, fortunately, the sound of one of the steam trains on Fairboune’s narrow gauge railway made the job a lot easier.

I’ve mentioned in this column before that Harry is turning out to be quite a fan of Thomas the Tank Engine, so you can imagine his excitement when confronted by a real steam engine.

Of course, we had to have a go and Harry spent the journey hanging out the side of the carriage shouting ‘toot toot’ at the top of his voice, with me hanging on to him by his reins. Needless to say, he had a soot-covered face by the end of the journey.

It was a thoroughly enjoyable day – and to think I’d planned to sit around at home instead.