I used to hate going to the seaside. The sea is dirty – there is usually a sewer overflow nearby just as a reminder. I hate sand, I hate the way it just gets everywhere, in my shoes, between my toes, in my food. It is always windy. I hate the wind. It winds me up, it’s like being manhandled by mother nature’s security men – it’s out of order but there’s nothing you can do, and when it’s done, you’re left sore and red faced. The sun is probably why I find myself at the seaside, so naturally I will be burnt. Hot weather also means pollen – even at the beach – add that to the wind and sand and my eyes will be streaming.
We recently revisited a beach that we first found a year ago, and I realised that there is a difference between a beach and the seaside.
Coming from land locked Herefordshire, a trip to the seaside usually meant going to a seaside town on holiday. I like seaside towns. I like to stroll along the promenade with a “99” or a bag of chips. Beaches at seaside towns are not good. These are the dirty, overcrowded things of my nightmares.
So it occurred to me that this beach on the Gower peninsula, near Swansea is probably my favourite one – probably because of the lack of other people.
Now I am a little older, and have (sort of) come to terms with sand and water and the fact that it will get everywhere, I can at least enjoy bite sized visits.