lashings of rain, literally like being lashed with dozens of wet flails as the wind drives in from the north, not really a morning for doing much other than drinking coffee, of which there is both supply and variety... but, later, a heartfelt groan and the addition of a waterproof plastic thing leads to a walk... the room is about 15 minutes out of the town so there's no choice but to walk when it's time to eat, but it's always possible to take a detour and where better to go than a tunnel, out of the wind and rain, disused gun emplacements offering views across darkened and roughening waters where steep and ragged cliffs rise from the mists spraying from the percussive waves while, behind you, echoing through the nooks and crannies of the tunnel system the haunting wind carrying the voice of  howling banshee or siren song...