The
British seaside, don’t you just love it? Full of nostalgia, with one foot
firmly planted in a by gone era of sepia tinted, kiss me quick, knotted hanky
memories. It is a timeless link between the past, present and future. Marty
McFly would have been in his element and wouldn’t even have needed a souped up
DeLorean and all that nasty plutonium. My grandparents used to send us a
postcard from their annual trip to Skegness, with pictures of neatly arranged,
prim and proper flowerbeds in full bloom. Hastings had identical flowerbeds
lining the seafront promenade – the prom, prom, prom – with its art deco
sheltered seating and designated cycle track, upon which cyclists who you
hadn’t seen approaching, would suddenly appear at your shoulder, with
frustrated frowns.
Classy art deco shelter in Hastings...
We have
recently returned from a family break in Hastings. There was my wife and kids,
my wife’s brother and family, who are over from Brazil and my in laws. The
youngest amongst us was nearly three-years-old, the eldest, seventy-three. Three
generations in one house, overlooking the sea, which is the common holiday
factor that crosses generation gaps. The ocean holds a fascination, a sense of
excitement and has a calming influence. I could stare at the sea all day long as
the world passes by. It is hard to take your eyes off it. The brown murkiness,
close to the shore, gives way to a light turquoise, the sun shimmering on the deep
blue, before turning into a fearsome darkness. On second thoughts, staring at
the sea probably isn’t the best idea!!
Especially
when there are the flashing lights and electronic buzzing and bells of the
amusement arcades. Lets get on the penny slots!! Or two penny slots as they are
these days. Those large copper-plated steel coins teetering on the edge, about to come
crashing down, bringing that crisp five pound note with them. Let me hear the
rattling of coins!! I used to feel the excitement when I was a kid and so I let
my boys enjoy wasting a fiver each, before telling them that amusement arcades
are like the government. They give you the impression that you could be better
off, before leaving you with the realisation that you are actually being taken
for a ride. Amusement arcades though are admittedly much more fun than the
government.
The illusion of riches...
This
Summer, seagulls have dominated the news and they are indeed big, fearless
creatures that can easily beat you in a staring contest. They love a chip, or
any food they can get their big yellow, pesky beaks on but you can’t blame
them. They are, after all, animals, who want to survive and if that means nicking
your chips, then so be it. A gull’s gotta do what a gull’s gotta do!! Seagulls
have been around since the year dot, they are still around now and in the
future, according particularly to one witness of recent seagull antics, who
compared them in a newspaper article to the birds in Hitchcock's movie The Birds, they
will become demon creatures of the coast. If Tippi Hedren unwittingly starts
keeping a couple of seagulls in a cage, we should be very concerned.
Demon Gulls...
During
our five days away, other timeless and essential seaside pastimes were
undertaken, including fish and chips on the beach, sticks of rock for the kids,
an expert round of crazy golf and the simple pleasure of throwing stones into
the sea (see HSD Image.)
Whenever
I visit a coastal town I often have a feeling of the world passing it by,
coupled with a sense of disrepair and the place slightly falling apart at the
seams. In St Leonard’s, just down the road from Hastings, a vast, old, regal
building looks down from a hill, disused and boarded up, like a haunted house
from Scooby Doo. The white paint peels away from an apartment block on the walk
into Hastings. On entering the main shopping area of Hastings, junkies hang around
outside Boots the Chemist, waiting to cash in their prescriptions, whilst
on neighbouring streets, new shops,
cafes and a cinema are trying to become established and move things forward.
In need of a paint job...
The new
always replaces the old and the house in which we were stopping in St.Leonard’s,
in a perfect location, had been bought and renovated by a lady from London. You
hear of a lot of Londoners buying up properties on the coast, as an investment
or a new or second home. It makes me wonder where the local residents go. Perhaps
the future will see coastal locals developing gills and being pushed out into
the ocean to live like Kevin Costner in Waterworld. Until that happens, I will
keep myself content with the fact that three generations of one family lived happily
together for a week, English and Brazilian, side by side, looking out to the ocean...
