On our final day we set out for some more natural volcanic springs which empty into the sea a little way down the coast from us. The sun was bright but the wind was fierce and when we found the rocky inlet where the springs warm the incoming tide, Tom and I wimped out. Philippa, always a sucker for the free spa, bravely lowered herself in carefully avoiding the jellyfish. But the tide was high and the water was cold. Shuddering slightly but grinning, she battled the swell and pulled herself out. We went back up the hill to the non-free spa further up the cliff and lounged in the hot, salty outdoor pool as the wind flicked the water at us and an elderly Japanese lady in baseball hat and sunglasses did very slow lengths.
Tom felt a bit cheated about coming to the sea and not playing in it. After a mighty lunch in Mosteiros, in a cafe overlooking the friar and the nun, he and I went to the black sand beach with a boogie board. The beach was almost too hot to walk on, which contrasted nicely with the sea which was almost too cold to swim in. But not quite. T and I managed to ride several waves which blasted our legs with pebbles on the undertow. Honour was satisfied and we sat in the sun drying off, feeling like hero surfers.
We went back to the house where P was soaking up the sun on the terrace while the waves crashed on the rocks below. It was a grand way to end the week; sun sinking down over a pounding shoreline and the three of us with glowing faces.