Day one of our summer holiday extraordinaire and we have made our way to St Mary’s Bay in Brixham. The beach is only accessible via the water, or by a hilly coastal path, which we are traversing. The trail is shaded in the most part, which I and my pasty white skin are thankful for, as it is already in the high twenties and only 9am. The trees and bushes part occasionally, providing us with tantalising glimpses of the glistening, almost flat sea, so bright blue in colour that it feels like an impossible child’s painting. It is a long way down, but the path takes a gentler, winding route, until we reach the last set of steps – 100 of them – that take us to the sand.

The beach is a mixture of sand, pebbles, and granite rocks, and is a long, gently curving narrow stretch, bordered by cliffs on our left, and the gently lapping sea to our right. From end-to end, the beach is shaped like a horseshoe.

We make our way past the few couples and their dogs who are also early risers, and leave them behind, finding a sandy patch to lay out our picnic blanket and make camp. We lay and watch dogs chasing stones into the water, and kayakers and paddleboarders paddling across the cove while the sun soaks into our skin, easing and relaxing after a long year of lockdowns and hard work.

The sun quickly turns from welcoming to burning for me and my sensitive skin, and we decide to head into the sea for my first swim in over three years.

Picking our way down to the water’s edge is a challenge in itself over the sharp edges of the stones, and we affect the time-honoured arm-waving wincing walk that all stone walkers adopt. My feet finally reach the surf, and it is freezing. We edge in oh-so-slowly, with many gasps and squeals, as the water edges upwards and our breath is sucked away by the intense cold, until I can’t take the torture and take the plunge, swimming hard to get the blood moving back to my fingers.

I’m swimming! In the sea! Trying very hard not to think about all the creatures that could be swimming in here with me! The water is epic. For the first time, I’m actually enjoying slipping through the water, and basking in the pure delight of the hot, cloudlessly sunny day and the cooling, soothing water that holds me up with little effort on my part.

And then Soraya points out a jellyfish. And that’s my cue to leave.

I swim calmly (kind of) and carefully towards the shore, keeping a weather-eye out for any other surprises, and see a jellyfish of my own on the way, just off my left shoulder. It is umbrella-shaped, and mostly transparent, apart from a brown ring in its domed body. It is beautiful in its way, but I’m done, and the beach has never looked better (and safer). As I paddle in the shadows, not quite willing to give up the water altogether, Soraya points out another one, this one different, shaped like a large throat lozenge, transparent apart from purple veins running from end-to-end. After some research over lunch, we find out that this is a Comb Jelly. It undulates gently in the current.

I head back to the blanket and dry off, then spend a few hot and interesting minutes under my beach cover-up changing out of my bikini into dry clothes. As lunchtime nears, we decide to walk to the café further on up the headland to get some food, and pack up for our walk out.

The 100 steps are much harder on the way up.

The path is busier now, and we pass quite a few people heading down to the cove to be baked on the sand in the ever-increasing temperatures, and I feel glad we are both early risers. The path turns out to be longer than expected: narrow, winding, with a profusion of wildflowers on either side – tiny pink petals, tall white bells, fluffy purple balls, and delicate large yellow blooms. Every so often there is a stone stile, worn smooth and shiny by years of use, and almost uncomfortably hot to the touch as we clamber over. The ruins of an old fort snake alongside us at one point, cut off from us by an old, dried-up moat.

We finally spot the café as we reach a headland, and I am pretty happy to see it – by this time I’m feeling like the sun has boiled me alive, and I’m convinced that I’ll be spending the rest of the holiday bathing in aftersun!

The café is a little gem. Called the Guardhouse Café, it caters for a range of diets, and I order a crab sandwich on the best gluten-free bread I’ve ever tasted – thick and soft and full of grains and taste. I follow this up with a gluten-free brownie with white-chocolate and raspberry pieces inside, and it is moist and rich and perfect. I feel moved to commend the chef on his great work. Fortified by good food and cold, fizzy drinks we head back to our car and then back to our lodge, to enjoy an evening of good food and alcoholic beverages. And, I am pleased to discover, I have done well with the suncream coverage, and have survived the day with my skin intact.