So, Clacton to Frinton by foot. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I cycled it too many years ago with Trevor and Jon and really didn’t remember that Clacton to Frinton was any longer than the very manageable stretch from Frinton on to Walton.

Well it is. We paid for four hours parking and were late getting back, despite only walking one way. Fortunately the parking attendant was nowhere to be seen, perhaps on account of the fact that today was an official scorcher.

You really have no idea how far between the two resorts you are when you’re walking along by the water’s edge, one side of your neck slowly cooking in the sun reflected off the sea. More than once I was sure we were almost there, and on neither occasion were we even half way.

No matter; the sun was full out, the tide was high and the sea was blue and crashing on the defences beside the path. We couldn’t have hoped for any better.

It took over two hours to make it to Frinton, passing beach huts by the hundred on the way, and when we got there we fell into a greasy cafe for eggs and chips and mugs of tea. Never had so humble a lunch tasted so good.

There was no way we were going to get back to the car on foot before it found itself clamped, so we walked up to the station and bought tickets back to Clacton, only to find we’d not get there for another hour and a half on account of a limp timetable and an inconvenient change. So we headed for the bus, and a bit of a shock.

When it eventually arrived (we’d just missed one) it was £7 each for a journey of not more than five miles as the crow flies.

Hmmm. Still, cheaper than a clamp, and it was such a lovely day it was well worth the money.

I hadn’t been in years and Rich had never been. We hadn’t seen Ash and Roman since last September and we wanted to do some geocaching away from home. So many reasons to head down to Surrey and Box Hill.

We stopped at Sal’s for breakfast and sat on the decking eating cupcakes in the sun. Very decadent, but Will – who is clearly a three-year-old Worrall Thompson – had been making them since he’d got up. The ones in the green cases were ours, apparently.

Surrey turned out to be not nearly so far from home as I’d remembered and we were down there in a little bit more than an hour. We stopped in Leatherhead to smash any illusion I had of this exciting town from my youth (not very nice as it turns out), then headed to Fetcham, past my old scout hut, the place where we used to buy the papers, my old nursery… I was surprised how well I remembered it all considering I left the county aged nine.

We had lunch at The Anchor in Bookham for lunch and then headed up the hill by way of the Zig Zag. It’s just as steep as I remember, the only difference being that Sal and I used to climb straight up the front of it every summer with my grandmother. How she did it, I don’t know.

The view from the top is still one of the best in the south, looking down on Dorking and out over several counties. I wasn’t in the least bit tempted to roll down it like we used to. That’s what happens when you turn mid-thirty: you start thinking about the climb back up again.

We had a successful session geoaching, though. We found four stashes in all before heading back to Ash’s for tea and then out to Epsom for dinner.

Isn’t this what holidays at home should all be about: catching up with the things you’ve missed.

I just got a retweet from the Prime Minister (I suspect it was actually one of his flunkies as he’s probably quite busy most days) asking me for Facebook feedback on the government. Specifically, what had I actually wanted after the last election.

By the time I got around to voting, 1,107,003 other people had already cast their click, and look at the results so far:

So, 24% of people are happy with what we got, but more people than that wanted another election.

Which leaves us with one question: with the coalition still banging on about inclusive politics and consulting us on what we want, isn’t it time it called another election?

Has it really come to this? They’ll cover-mount anything these days for a quick sale.