Thomas's heroic Cornish trek

Thomas was dropped off about ten miles away from St. Ives in Cornwall while the wrinklies drove on and sat and waited for him in the comforts of the hotel.  Here he is, recovering from the unfamiliar experience of "being outside".  Apparently shortly thereafter he was off looking for more!  "I could get used to this, what do they call it?  "Sunlight"?"
[Update: he escaped the sunlight inside the Tate (St. Ives is very arty and has tons of museums, which Thomas, young fogey that he is, gravitates towards).  Margaret can be seen in the bottom right of the frame, keeping a respectful distance.  Grandpa grumbled that his job was to circle St. Ives in the car and be on call when either of Margaret or Thomas had their fill of culture.  What, uninterrupted Radio 4 listening at whatever volume level he wanted?  You know he loved it really.]