If you like aeroplanes, beach life, swimming in the sea, beach huts and sunshine …and people, you might be lucky and enjoy the perfect summer day. The Bournemouth Air Festival usually occurs after the bank holiday weekend and just before the children go back to school for the autumn term, which of course means the weather is guaranteed to suddenly improve. As the festival is held over four days, the chances of sunshine and planes actually taking off are greatly improved. It rained all of August and true to form Thursday 31st August started with torrential downpours.
In the afternoon it ‘brightened up’. Consultation of programme updates indicated nothing was flying all afternoon except the Red Arrows with a low level display at 5.30pm, so there was a mass migration to the cliff top.
The excitement was short lived as they soon flew away.
Few words needed, but anyone having visitors for the weekend will know the importance of the weather, especially if dogs and children are involved, but the good news is… smart phones still work even if you drop them in the sea and swimming in the sea was the most popular activity.
One set of six keys, one bottle of water, one diary, one iPhone.
One yellow purse containing one note each of the following denominations – £20, £10, £5 and £7.23 in change, one Visa debit card in the name of Lottie Lincoln, six assorted membership cards, an assortment of coffee shop reward cards, one book of second class stamps with one stamp remaining and ten business style cards in the name of Lottie Lincoln, author.
One makeup bag with assorted toiletries, one facemask, one box of plasters, one packet of Ibuprofen, one large notebook, two pens, one large beach pebble, one copy of Big Issue magazine, one Mars bar and one tied plastic bag containing unknown substance.’
At this point Lottie could not resist interrupting.
‘That bag only contains plastic bags, you know, for the recycling bin at the Co Op.’
‘If you say so Madam, but I am not permitted to open it here, it will have to go to the lab for analysis.’
‘Well not just bags, any soft plastic, like those bits you peel off the food containers, you have to wash them of course, especially if it was fish…’
‘Can we just get on, I’m sure you don’t want to be detained any longer than necessary… one carry tray containing six plants…’
‘Primulas, someone was selling them from their front garden, just before I went down to the beach…. And why am I being detained, I only came out for a breath of fresh air and a newspaper, I certainly did not expect this.’
‘Do you often pop out to buy a paper with a heavy rucksack equipped for an expedition?’
‘Hardly that, you should see what I take on a proper expedition. No, I just like to be prepared. So why have I been arrested?’
‘Why were you taking photographs in a restricted area?’
‘Oh, was that sign for real, how exciting, I wondered why that part of the beach was fenced off. I’m new in the area. I was just taking photos for my blog, Literally Lottie.’
‘And how long have you belonged to the activist group?’
‘What activist group… oh you mean all those lovely people with the Save Our Seas posters? I had only just met them when you lot turned up. I can’t see what they have done wrong and certainly you have nothing to charge me with.’
‘Yes I do. Under the Coastal Protection Act 1949, the removal of any natural material such as sand and pebbles from public beaches in the UK is illegal.’
It is that time of year when Bournemouth council, or more accurately BCP Council now ( Bournemouth, Christchurch and Poole ) tells us by how much our beach hut rent has gone up, with various explanations as to why. We were on the waiting list for six years and I guess most beach hut people will pay up rather than lose the six foot by six foot piece of concrete they rent. It’s best not to calculate the cost per minute of sitting in the sun, making a cup of tea or having your own private changing room. There are people who go every day, but most of us have other things to do, places to go and gardens looking accusingly at us. I had not visited since last year, though I have walked past to make sure it was still there. The council does not own our huts and how ever much we have paid, the hut is worth nothing if you can’t unlock it. Weather and salty air play havoc with padlocks, whether they have keys or a combination lock and pulling the shackle out can be as impossible as pulling Excalibur from the stone if you are not the future King Arthur.
Luckily I brought WD 40 from home. I have never known what WD 40 is actually made of, but I love the scent and apparently WD and duct tape are all you need to solve most DIY problems. There is a can of WD 40 in the beach hut, but that is not much use if you can’t get in… I used a lot of WD 40 and had to resort to going away to wash half a can of it off my hands then sneaking back, when the second padlock wasn’t looking, to open it.
When you walk down here it feels like being on holiday.
When you see your patch of sea you know it was worth the money and the struggles with the padlocks.
As the padlocks soak up WD 40 and you soak up the winter sun and eat your sandwiches you know it was worth it.
Then after two bites of your sandwich the weather changes, your tea gets cold and you wonder if your friends will regret saying they would ‘pop in’ for a cup of tea.This is why you keep blankets at the beach hut…
…but the sun will probably come out again before it goes down.
Seaside locked? You could go shopping instead.Saunter through the gardens…
Perhaps stop at the cinema……or for coffee…… but you better save time for shopping…
Don’t miss the arcade…
You could buy a book…and stop for coffee and get some ideas on what to do with your old ladders.But you must be getting on with your shopping – hmm looks like it’s closed.This looks more hopeful.Is this the fashion section?Perhaps not.Wonder what’s upstairs?At least you get a good view… fashion must be on the next floor and perhaps the restaurant…Whoops!I think we must be in the art gallery…That’s what I feel like doing with my feet.That’s enough shopping for today.
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 