Two years, wildlife and inside the barrel.

1. Nick wakes me up and to tell me I'm his two-year girl. It's hard to believe that it's the second anniversary of our meeting at Tim and Rachel's wedding -- sometimes it seems as if we've been together since always; other times it seems we are walking into new territory.

2. A church round the corner has an embroidery exhibition. To give me a change from the flat's four walls, we go and have a look. My favourite was a pair of blue egg-shaped panels covered in lacy white images of magnified planckton and algae.

3. BBC2's South Pacific documentary included footage filmed inside a 12ft high breaking wave that left me with my mouth hanging open.

Desolation, aeronauts and home tasks.

1. We are shocked that the desolate, delapidated, tumble weed and dog shit Marine Parade of Folkestone was recommended in a tourist leaflet. We try to find decayed grandeur, but see only neglect and sadness. Then a path under a bridge tempts us into a garden of wandering paths, pine tree shade and sculptures.

2. "Scree-sree scree-sree," insist the swifts who are throwing themselves around the blue space above us.

3. To come home, add a few treasures to the window ledge and inspect the health and happiness of my plants.

Shell sound, that's what a squill is and no porpoises.

1. All week my father has been blowing on winkle shells to make them whistle

2. My aunt shows me tight-curled squills -- tiny fists that have squeezed themselves blue -- hiding in the rough clifftop grass.

3. There are no porpoises to be seen, but there is the wind thrumming on the cables of the coastguard's radio mast; and a white pony that gravely lips my open hands.

Tideline, pebbles and egret.

1. The salty smell of the tideline.

2. Pebbles shine under the water in red, green and grey.

3. An egret fishing -- bright white S-shape watches grey peaked water.

First light, breakfast, adding to a tradition, stay off the carpet and dinner.

1. We open the curtains on our top floor room to a warship coming into the harbour. This makes Nick's day before it has even begun. Coming downstairs and seeing out the view out of the hotel's back windows for the first time, we spot furtive-looking tunnels cut into the chalk high above us.

2. Our breakfast comes on loaded plates, attention-to-detail evident in the perfect egg yolks and the gently browned mushrooms.

3. The stairs to the castle have a rail plastered with discarded visitor stickers. Later we plan to add our own.

4. In the keep's main hall, a sign warns that no-one should tread on the carpet before the king's throne. A girl tugs her grandmother's hand and says very quietly 'Shall we go on the rug?' When they do, a stern recorded voice admonishes them 'What are you doing on that carpet?'. The little girl is thrilled and tries again: 'Stay off the King's carpet.'

5. Crackling -- faintly fennel-flavoured -- on slow-roast pork. And a neat line of roasted winter vegetables. We really struck lucky for dinner at the Hubert House Bistro, which we choose almost at random because we liked the look of it.

Getting out of here, into Dover and harbour lights.

Nick and I spent this weekend in Dover. We very much recommend Loddington House Hotel.

1. On a sunny afternoon, leaving work with a light heart and a suitcase.

2. The train brings us into Dover just as night is muddying up the day's blue sky.

3. After supper, we go to the guests' lounge and watch dots and smudges of light moving about the harbour.

Deep blue, journey, petrol and part of the moon.

1. I come to the end of the bay. The sea bed drops away suddenly into darkness and I have a feeling of things unseen below me. I turn to swim back to the beach and in a cleft see a rich orange starfish lying languidly in the blue gloom.

2. Every car journey this week has involved bouncing and jolting in clouds of red dust. It is a relief to speed along a smooth highway. The journey is punctuated by cries of 'Tortoise' and speculations about what people are harvesting and growing.

3. We stop for petrol and Katie and I recall the days when our friends were just starting to drive. 'Do you remember getting £2.17 worth of petrol and paying in pennies?'

4. While we wait to take off, Pauline tells me to look out at the full moon coming over the hills.

Underwater love, wind and sun, fabulous feast, walkers, watcher and work.

1. I feel as if I am flying. Far belwo the rocks on the sea bed fall away into the ultramarine gloom. Flying around me are tiny silver fish, fat black fish and once, a pipefish -- all bones and beak.

2. Sitting on the front deck of the boat and letting the wind and sun dry me.

3. Dish of food keep appearing -- long pancake rolls full of feta and fresh herbs; a salad of fat white raddish slices dressed with lemon flesh and juice; green leaves and tomatoes; chicken thighs spiced and cooked without the bone; crisp-skinned fish with sweet white flesh; and pickled runner beans. Later come dishes of ice piled with water melon, apricots, oranges, bananas and tart green plums.

4. Bobbing at anchor, we spot a forlorn group of walkers wilting on the beach. A tall ship comes in, makes fast and sends a dinghy over to collect them.

5. With sketchbook in hand I am free to observe the colours in the sea without interruption.

6. All holiday, worries about money have been digging cold fingers into my mind. I pick up a message suggesting that there might be some editing work on my return.

In my absence: Generous crafter Meggiecat shares information.

Genuine fake, Turkish children and waves.

1. The stallholders all have patter: 'Buy now, pay next year.' 'How much?' 'Cheap as chips.' 'Free bag.' 'Genuine fake'. My favourite, though, is the lad who wafts us with a crate lid, claiming his stall has free air conditioning.

2. Children in school uniform. The basic outfits are the same -- a blue dress, or a blue sailor suit with a white collar. But every single one is different. Some collars are lacy; others are embroidered with toy trains or alphabets. The children come down from the green school at the top of the hill and buy their lunch from the kebab van. Then, carrying their cup of ayran (a yoghurt drink, similar to lassi), they wander through the market inspecting the goods and commenting on the toys.

3. Bunches of mint seem to fill the whole vegetable market.

4. Last thing at night, hearing the waves washing the beach far below.

Picture by Katie Skinner

In my absence: Entertain yourselves by going Out with Mol on a walk into the French countryside.

Light, treasure and distance.

1. Having a morning bath in a bathroom with a window.

2. Making Rosey go into a cave, even though it 'smells of wee', just happening to have a torch in my bag, and finding a geocache.

3. Leaning on the rail of the ferry I watch Rosey getting smaller and smaller as she walks back to her Landrover. When she is the size of my top little finger joint, she turns round and waves at me.

No-where to hide, locate and pile of stones.

1. We are walking down a long valley of heather and moorland grass. Rosey says it reminds of a scene in one of her favourite books, 39 Steps. The hero is walking down just such a valley afraid that at any moment a plane will appear because there is no-where to hide. Just as we are discussing the possibilities, a helicopter appears over the mountain.

2. Rosey finding her first geocache.

3. Stacking rocks on the beach. It's a game I like because there is an element of chance in what rocks will be to hand; it takes skill to balance them on top of each other; and looking back down the beach at the trail of stacks is very satisfying.

Moss, heather and finding food.

The beautiful things from the next couple of days come from a trip to Arran where I helped Rosey measure wind movement on a wooded hill.

1. Sitting in a forest glade listening to the sea lapping on the shore far below.

2. Lying in the heather on a high moor feeling the sun warm on my face.

3. At 8pm on a Sunday on a Scottish island, we find a restaurant willing to give us supper.

Paddle, peel and warming things.

1. Learning the ways of kyaking. When I first start, I turn round in circles. But our instructors explain the secret ways and quite soon I am darting around in a straight line, turning when I want to turn and not bumping into the others. I really liked the way he corrected a bad paddling technique. 'You're moving your hands with each stroke, which is good because it gives you more leverage, but it's better to keep them still so you've got a grip on your paddle.' I enjoyed the manoeuvrability -- it was great being able to get into the water so easily; and to paddle into a sea cave or right up against the cliffs. Kim reports that it's a wonderful way to get close to wildlife, because they don't hear you coming. 'I've made friends with moorhens.'

2. The gear you wear for outdoor pursuits -- specially if it's borrowed -- can be smelly and uncomfortable. One of life's great pleasures is taking it off.

3. Hot chocolate after a couple of hours on the water. And back at the lodge, a lunch of warming soup full of potatoes and lentils and vegetables with doorsteps of bread and butter.

Cold water, the zone and scenes from the cliffs.

We are staying at Preseli Venture, Pembrokeshire for a weekend of outdoor activities celebrating James' 30th birthday. Our adventures for today are coasteering and hiking.

1. I'm scared of jumping into water. I'm not scared of water or heights -- it's the act of stepping off the edge that frightens me. And I really suffer from cold shock when I jump in -- I lose breath control and for a couple of minutes can do nothing but gasp uncontrollably, sucking down whatever air and water get into my nose and mouth. So my first beautiful thing is... every time I jump into water, I know that I am beating the fear; and that the next time I want to jump in, it'll be easier. And also, I always get used to the water, and after the first ducking, I'm in control of my breathing again.

2. Coasteering takes you to places that you are normally not supposed to go. Cliffs, for example; the white water at the bottom of cliffs, and rocks just offshore.

3. Julia -- the American girl that we stole from her group to be our friend -- spots a sign saying 'Access to burial chamber' so we divert from the prescribed walk along the coast path and investigate five stones with an enormous boulder balanced on the top. Other Points of Interest include: some very cuddly-looking black cows; a furry bear caterpiller; seals rolling in the blue water far below us; a shiney black beetle.

Lost, guessing and hot sugar.

1. When the tops of buildings disappear in the mist.

2. Guessing at the life stories of people in the street.

3. The smell of hot sugar on the pier.

Breakfast, fifth quarter and wraith.

1. Yet again Joe in Vegas' pancake mix has been put to good use: I made the pancakes and Katie arranged them with plenty of healthy fruit. Then we spoilt it all by slopping delicious maple syrup over the top.

2. The strange houses and gardens on Dungeness. Dungeness is a shingle spit sticking out of Romney Marsh with a powerstation on the end. It is the UK's only desert -- although it gets the typical amount of English rain, it drains straight through the shingle. There are lots of funny little houses put up any old where, some made from old railway carriages, others not much more than sheds, and when you find a brick house, it feels like quite an achievement. There are few fences, and many people have met the challenge of gardening on shingle by using beachcombings -- bits of rubbish and drift wood -- to make sculpture gardens. Every other house seems to sell bait or fresh fish or art. Find out more at this website.

3. A painting in the Pilot Inn, called The Wraith. It shows the artist walking across the marsh -- wearing a long green mac with stuffed pockets -- being startled by a heron rising out of a dyke. Really recommend the Pilot, by the way. It's very friendly, does good food and has uber-cool carved driftwood pump handles.

Parental units, free cup, our song, tasting, blowing in, discard, going alone and crickets.

Sometimes you just have to be a bit flexible with your numbering.

1. We met Rich's parents, Lucille and Fred, and you could see where he gets his kindness and generosity from. They welcomed us like long-lost friends, and I loved being 'The girls' right from the start. Later, we set out in Lucille's vast and beautiful 1980s Cadillac ('I'm the original little old lady who you want to buy a car from.' We went to the graveyard so we could salute Rich and give him some flowers. His stone is artful -- simple but full of meaning for anyone who knows how he gave Lucille gardenias, that he achieved Scouting honours and that he loved books.

1a. Driving towards the end of Long Island, we stopped at a Starbucks where the barista asked 'Are you on holiday?' I said: 'Yes.' Seems this was the right answer, because it got me a free coffee! 'He's probably used to dealing with some very rude and demanding people,' commented Bob.

2. 'Switch on your radio at 3.30,' said Bob. 'It's a good show.' And they played a special song for Clare and Katie driving through Long Island: Gilbert O'Sullivan's Clare. I never realised there was a song for my name -- and it's even spelt right.

2a. Visiting Pindar Vineyards Winery. When Rich visited us, he brought over some bottles of really quite nice wine and a big packet of bottle labels, which I used to decorate a little chest of drawers in my bathroom. We saw the original paintings used to make the labels, and tasted (and bought) some wine.

2b. Watching a storm blowing in towards Orient Point while we waited for the ferry. The wind whipped our hair and battered at our coats. After hot New York the sea air was a blast.

2c. Horseshoe crab shells. I've never seen these before except in pictures and I couldn't believe they were big enough to use as helmets.

3. On the other side of the ferry was our first solo US driving -- Katie's first solo US driving, I mean -- and we were both very scared. So arriving safely at the motel in Mystic was a great relief.

3a. I hadn't expected to hear so many whirring churring croaking things -- I like these noises because they make it feel as if you are properly on holiday.

Dirty weather, sails and calm.

We spent this day at the Trafalgar celebrations from a colleague's yacht.

1. Watching a rainstorm come in across Portsmouth harbour. The sky started off clear and blue; filled with lumpy clouds like scrambled eggs and then turned evil school uniform grey. The rain followed - enormous, stinging drops pocking a peaked up sea.

2. Tall ships against a mass of bristly destroyers.

3. Coming off a choppy sea and into a still harbour.

Kale, terns and talk.

1. The kale is blooming under the cliffs. The flowers are white and look like frothy petticoats. They have a rather sweet, pretty smell that you wouldn't think comes from a cabbage.

2. Terns diving for fish. Shoulders hunched around their black faces, they fly into the wind so they can hover and then drop suddenly with a little splash, appearing again a moment later.

3. We raced up to the pub for last orders and ran into some people PaulV sort of knows. 'Join us,' they said, so we did, and the conversation about music and Star Wars and working in off-licences wanted to carry on even after we'd been chucked out of the pub.

Special guest

Fenella's postcard from Jamaica arrived yesterday and she wanted to share her beautiful things, so here they are.

1. Water - from the turquoise sea where we've snorkeled and seen octopus, dived amongst the coral, canoed (or in Andy's case sat back while I did all the work - no really) to the crashing cascades of clear sparkling water of the 975 foot Dunn River Falls which we climbed to the top of.

2. Food - copious amounts of fresh, yummy food - papaya, watermelon, pineapple, seven-course candle-lit dinners, open-air beach parties and Andy's first (and last) sampling of lobster.

3. Swimming with dolphins - we are doing it tomorrow. Need I say any more?

I made them tell me all about this last and they showed me the pictures. It was hard to say who was smiling most - Fenella, Andy or the dolphins. 'We conducted and they sang to us.' And 'Male dolphins have rough skins and female dolphins have smooth skins.' And 'We made smoochy faces and they kissed us.'