Meet Hermie, the Corsican Hermit. You will have to take my word for it that he lives in that shell as he was most unco-operative.
I was watching him when he popped out and he was huge and orange and beautiful. I ran to fetch the camera and when he saw me coming he went back into his shell.
It is something when a 56-year-old woman sits on the edge of the sea for 30 minutes talking to a shell.
'Come on out, Hermie, please. Come on. I'll take your photo and put it on my blog and you will be famous!'
'You are missing ze point,' he grumbled from inside his shell (in a French accent). 'I am a 'ermeet. I do not wunt to be faymous.'
'Oh come on, I tell you what I'll set up a Facebook page just for you. Like Teacosy Pete, the famous Swansea tramp. People all over the world will report sightings of you!'
'I tell you I do not wunt to be faymous!'
I was telling Husband about this conversation. He remarked that Hermie must be an unusually intelligent crab to be able to converse in English.
'Most hermits are very intellectual,' I said. 'Many are philosophers who spend their days contemplating the meaning of life.'
A thought suddenly struck me and I raced back down to the sea. 'Hermie, Hermie! I know the answer to the meaning of life. If you come out of your shell I will tell you!'
'Pah! If you tell me I will no longer need to be a 'ermeet. I just want to be alone. Go away!'
So I had to be satisfied with the photo of the outside of his shell.
Next time I'll tell you about the fish that bit me.