It's All About the Destination

I'm enjoying a family holiday in Sussex, in a seaside town along the South East coast of England.

The south coast is traditionally an area where many pensioners choose to retire as the temperature tends to be warmer - there is a bit of a micro-climate thing going on. 
So, a pretty good place for a Pouting Pensioner
to be holidaying :-).

The sea promenade is lined with beach huts, which families either own or rent.  They are used to set up home for a day on the beach.  They look like fun.

Day 2 necessitated a walk to the Post Office.  Walking to the Post Office - that in itself conjures up a feeling of a different era, a time of postal orders, shopping baskets over the arm and mongers for this and mongers for that.  A time when mum knitted the cardis and Miss Marple solved the crimes.

Quite a nice feel, actually - the very act of  Walking to the Post Office got me feeling a bit Miss Marple-like.

'Aver, the Photographer and SD wanted to take the picturesque walk along the promenade, a prettier but circuitous route.  I argued that we should take the direct route, through the town.  Mine was not an uplifting route, if I'm being honest, but an efficient one.  I was outvoted. 

As we walked along the sea front, enjoying the bracing air admittedly, but with me feeling a little aggrieved for being outvoted, I declared that this scenic walk was all about the journey and I have got to a stage in life where I don't have time to enjoy the journey, I need to get to the destination.  Quickly and expediently.  P.D.Q.  No time to dawdle.

Seems that I have got to that stage in life where I feel like I need to maximise on every moment.  That means getting from A to B by the fastest route.   

If that sounds like an oldie speaking, well, that is what I am - and if that requires one to be bien dans sa vielle peau, then that is what I am too!

(with apologies to my French readers for any grammatical errors and for messing with their perfectly wonderful expression)

A la perchoine.