Being less of an English rose, more an unripened tomato, sitting out in the sun is never usually that high up on my list of things to do. Even after the winter being hijacked by the white witch of Narnia, and the sun finally resurfacing from wherever it had been hiding, I have still mostly been content to watch its comeback act from the comfort of my armchair.
There is an exception to this general life rule of mine,
however. As the old tune goes, oh I do love to be beside the seaside. And after
a series of early family holidays abroad were marred by either mine or my
sister’s vomit – air turbulence and ‘mocktails’ apparently not agreeing with
our delicate young stomachs – I established a love for the British seaside
which cuts almost as deep as my love for tea and bourbon biscuits, ie: VERY.
Come rain or shine, the beach is one of my favourite places to
be. Even in conditions that force you to unpack a mac, bundle up in fifteen
layers and leave you with hair that’s less windswept, more windstraggled, I
still enjoy a trip to the seaside. I have ventured away from the Big Smoke to
just about every location along the South coast: Whitstable, Dover, Margate,
Westgate, Deansgate, Dymchurch, Brighton and more. I've experienced the
delights of the South West, in annual holidays across Cornwall and Devon. I’ve even found myself sunbathing – or slow-cooking like a crackling pig -
where such a thing is usually unimaginable; with Whitby Abbey looming in all
its gothic splendour in the distance.
I know there are those who aren’t quite so convinced – sand
getting in places it shouldn’t, the murky seawater and tatty seaside towns
being a poor substitute for the clear waters and four star luxury of the
Caribbean – but for me, that’s all part of the charm. Where else but in England
could you sail out to sea on a replica of Captain Cook’s pirate ship, with the
Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack and a gruff voice of Northern wisdom to
accompany your journey?
As my mother once wisely pointed out, the beach is also one
of the few places that could entertain anyone from the age of 0 to 80. Whether
you’re just watching the world go by from your foldy chair, engrossed in a
book, or building a sandcastle, there’s always something for everyone.
A few days ago, I ventured once again to one of the less
salubrious areas of the South coast. My phone had died, but that didn’t matter
- the real world looked like it had its very own filter placed upon it. I
walked up through a verge of long grass, past the chirping noises which always
have me imagining the grasshopper of James and the Giant Peach,
and emerged to a sight which no amount of Instagraming could conjure. Clear
blue skies, a heat haze courtesy of the 30 degree heat (ah British summer time,
you fickle mistress), a stretch of golden sand already scattered with people enjoying
themselves, and their legions of stripy windbreaks.