The first of many Beach Parties was a warm, friendly chilled out affair, with many expected and many unexpected guests and spectacles.... The sun shone, and the stereo pumped out the funk, and dogs barking echoed around the river.

We drank red wine from plastic cups a BBQ produced steaming baked potatoes, watching an insane BBC reporter paddle in the freezing Thames. All in the name of good TV. It was good TV though.

We had architects building sandcastles, which were monumental as far as plastic cup buckets can go, and they seemed to enjoy it and it was bizaare and entertaining. There was caber (driftwood) throwing, after it had been planted for a few moments on the sand, as a makeshift tree.

Some inspired souls brought picnic equipment and we lazed on rugs watching it all happen around us. Gradually though the beach got reclaimed by the Thames, and we shuffled up and up the beach, till eventually we had to beat a retreat till next time.