Barrow: a rather left-behind town where you see a group of naval officers in smart uniforms waiting to cross on the green man. Lots of once-prestigious Victorian and Edwardian civic buildings, all stripes and terracotta, announcing high ideals. It’s a pleasant train ride away, and there’s a bus to Walney Island – so what was I waiting for on so fine a day?

I walked along Biggar Bank to the South Walney nature reserve, looking out for the sight of seals’ heads bobbing about in the calm sea. At the very tip of the island I went into a hide, where a keen photographer pointed some out to me. One was basking – in that odd, crescent-moon position that makes them look as if they have found a new yoga posture – and others were swimming effortlessly. There were eiders too far out to be seen clearly, and Piel Island looked like something out of I Know Where I’m Going.

It would have been a long walk back, but fortunately a family I had chatted to in a hide stopped to offer me a lift on the road, saving me four miles of walking. And on the return journey I was unable to resist the temptation of stopping off at Arnside to eat fish and chips in the last of the sunshine. A perfect end to the day.