Following a restless night on stone hard beds and granite pillows, we opted for a walk on the beach. Fog enveloped the island like a shroud. We could hear the surf but there was no definition between sand, sea and sky. Even the sea gulls huddled in miserable clusters, their feathers water-ladened from the fog.
We were afraid to wander far as we could not see the walkway, across the dunes, to our hotel. The wet blanket of fog dripped from the live oak trees like winter rain.
Oh well, when you can't sleep or exercise, you can always eat. Or can you? (see journal on Denny's Restaurant).