Ladies, I am reliably informed, like to attend to their correspondence in the morning – preferably propped up in bed with a view of the Adriatic and a cup of tea provided by the manservant. This is all good – it allows gentlemen to focus on their studies with a mind sharpened by that first coffee of the day. A sharp mind is a must when dealing, for example, with the complexities of the competing forces at work in post WW2 Yugoslavia and the impact these had in the subsequent Homeland War.

Ladies then like to take the waters, or to be more precise, to take to the waters of the turquoise blue Adriatic in the mid-morning sunshine. This too is absolutely fine – it enables a gentleman to undertake music practice – run the fingers over some scales and play a few arpeggios – you know, the usual stuff. Meanwhile the manservant can attend to the chores associated with maintaining mobile accommodation that is suitable for a couple travelling in the grand style.

But wait! Through that curious communication channel that exists between writer and readers I can feel your mounting anxiety – but be patient! we will address the Bunter in the van shortly.

Once a lady has bathed, in what I am further reliably informed, is a cold sea (as cold as the Llyn in the Summer), she must now take herself to the shower block in order to warm up in a torrent of hot water before drying and dressing for the day’s activities.

OK! OK! your concern can no longer be ignored. Yes it was mid-morning when the immersion in the sea commenced and now it must be, well later morning and there has been no mention of breakfast!  Whilst it is entirely understandable that breakfast should follow a swim and subsequent shower, what is a chap to do when that initially finely sharpened intellect gives way to a hollow feeling in the stomach and the beautiful Adriatic becomes the object of a baleful stare?

It’s no good turning to the manservant who has only just reluctantly agreed to return in the evening to load the bikes back onto the rack at the rear of the van and fire up the BBQ to burn the evening meal. He has already left for a few hours of well-earned rest. The cook and general help has yet to turn up and it’s clear that breakfast will not commence until the lady has returned from her shower.

Of course there is stuff a gentleman can eat without requiring undue effort – for example chocolate – but this does not feel right as first food of the day and is likely to promote feelings of unworthiness – feelings a chap could well do without! There are biscuits and a rather fine fruit cake available, but these are earmarked for picnic lunches on walks or cycle rides – cook would justifiably be less than impressed if these were broached. A chap might well give a dubious prod at the remains of yesterday’s bread but disconsolately conclude that even spread thickly with butter this will just not do the business. And then, with the last gasp of constructive cognitive activity, a way forward may be glimpsed, viz – cut a slice of that slightly stale bread and do indeed smother with butter but then add a thick covering of Sarah’s fine homemade marmalade (tangy and firm with a fine shred), transported across Europe from Yorkshire for just such an eventuality.

The only problem now is to limit the amount of bread, butter and marmalade to the minimum necessary to restore a chap’s equilibrium – it would not do to spoil one’s appetite for the shared breakfast of granola, fruit and Greek yoghurt eaten beside those lapping waves and washed down with a large pot of fresh coffee.