Like most fishermen in northern climates, John's skin other than on his hands and face and up to mid bicep in the summer, was pale fish-belly white. T...e Fisherman's Tan. As it was, he was glad he had his back to the south, protecting his chest a little anyway.John looked around again, this time from the tall vantage at the top of the sand dune. Just sand, in every direction- except were those hills or mountains, over there to the north? They could be either, but they gave him a direction to. .. on holiday?" he asked."You could say so," I replied."If I may say so, I'm surprised you're not travelling in coach." Oh, that was easy," I grinned. "I bought a ticket."He bridled at my answer and for some unfathomable reason he took offence at my pertness."Now look here, fellow," he snarled. "Are you trying to be funny with me? Do you know who I am?" I'm afraid not and I don't really care," I replied.He began to lift his hand from the hand rest and I laid a finger on the top of his hand and. More

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