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Looking north to St Bees Head from the beach. Some people find the rattling noise the waves make as gravity sucks the salt water back through the shingle quite disturbing. I'm fortunate, I don't. The following day, when we started our walking adventure, all this had disappeared, masked from sight by a thick, wet, sea mist that imbued the day with a strangely silent and ghostly cloyingness through which shadowy figures emerged then vanished into the murk.
