The Seaside

I love the coast. I love rocky places, bleak windswept beaches, small sandy coves, city beaches and small English town beaches. I like them in winter in the rain and in summer in the sun. I do prefer them empty. I like the space and the solitude.

I feel so happy and relaxed at the seaside. I can't put my finger on why exactly except that maybe it's because I spent my childhood summer holidays at a beautiful but cold beach called Lunan Bay on the east coast of Scotland. We used to stay in a tiny hamlet of wooden fisherman's huts and old caravans. My cousins and I would run around freely fishing in rockpools and looking for rubies on the beach. I loved it there. My brother and I were the fifth generation of our family to holiday there. I cant wait to take Alex and make it a sixth.

But then most people love the sea don't they? I know my Dad dreams of a place by the sea and so did my Grandad. My brother lives by the sea and sails so I know it runs in our family. I guess I am one of the few that likes the beach in the middle of winter though. The wilder the better. I love the sea crashing against rocks, the solitude and the wind.

I am lucky in that I have been able to travel around the world for my job. Travel is badly paid but it definitely has its perks. I have visited stunning beaches from Canada to Greece but funnily enough it is the grey, pebbly British beaches I am most fond of. Candy coloured beach huts to shelter from the wind and rain. Piers and promenades from Victorian times. Saltwater marshes and creeks. Sand dunes and spits. Deckchairs and winter gardens. Lighthouses and fishermans huts. Old fashioned ice-cream parlours and bandstands. Cliff top walks and busy yachting marinas. Fishing fleets and busy working harbours. The sound of sails flapping against masts and the smell of brine in the air. Crabbing with buckets. Sandcastles and kite flying. Heaven.