The Bay in question being Morecambe Bay. I wonder how often these get used — going on the state of the sail of the one on the right at the back, I assume, not very often, even when the tide is in. Perhaps this shot is a little too over-contrasted but I was playing with settings on the camera, and it was a rather moody day of weather — note the chunk of rainbow to the top left.
Only in Britain do we really try to create seaside resorts on north-facing coasts at latitudes like 56º above the equator: but Redcar, near Middlesbrough, just about gets away with it thanks to having a really excellent beach that stretches for miles. Even when the sun is out, though, you still need to be quite hardy to make a day of it, but obviously this family have the necessary genetic qualities.
Great Britain is the only place which tries to do seaside resorts at around 57ºN, and in a location which, as it proved today, is prone to being covered in sea mist (here they call it haar) when the whole rest of the country bathes in sunshine. But Arbroath perseveres. Get a ticket for Arbroath FC — part of one stand of it is in the background, with visiting St Mirren fans — and you can get £12.50 worth of credit at Pleasureland for just £10. Or so we were told.
Since the 10th April, which was day 4,612 and hence 88 days, or 12.5 weeks ago, there have only been 8 pictures taken in Hebden Bridge, a sign of how much travelling I have been doing. But today was the last full day of it all. I may still get another Brighton or London picture on my way home tomorrow but after that I am at home for most of the rest of the summer. It’s been good to use my sabbatical properly, and valuable to have a change of scene: but I also want to go home, not move around so much, settle back in to home comforts, food, the movie collection, friends, that kind of thing.
To bring it all this to an end, then: more Brighton. Both piers, the active and the ruined, have appeared on here before — but not together, I think. Farewell to the south coast, for now: how long before I am back? No idea.
The southern coast of the Isle of Wight is one of the best places in the world to find fossils. This is not, I now realise, because more creatures somehow died here in the past. In fact it is because the entirety of this coast is sliding, fairly rapidly, into the English Channel, and so things long buried are regularly uncovered. Look at the erosion here — and the obvious geology, sandstone on the left, chalk thereafter. If you want my considered opinion I wouldn’t buy property too near this coast.
I have yet to start bringing my own deckchairs to beaches, and Clare and I remain, hopefully, more active than this — we reached Shanklin beach today, on the east coast of the Isle of Wight, after a 7.75 mile walk that you can read more about on my other blog. But in spirit, here we are. Give us ten years — maybe fifteen — and our bodies may be here too.
I was forewarned about the fogs that affect the coast of Namibia. The Benguela current sweeps cold water up from Antarctica, and as it passes the African coast it mixes with the warm air coming off the continent. But just because I understand the climatology doesn’t mean that the actual experience of the fog hasn’t come as a surprise because they really are bloody cold; the mornings and evenings here in Swakopmund have not at all been like one might imagine an African beach holiday, more like Morecambe in November. These two swimmers must be seriously hardy.
The Midland’s second appearance on the blog, after this shot, 2,627 days ago– which is less vivid, and I prefer this one. It’s nice that we’re getting some sunshine, which in the last few weeks of 2023, was at a premium.
I worked out that before today, I had been to 25 of the top 30 cities in the UK ranked by population: as of today I have now been to 26, as I (and Clare) paid a first-ever visit to Swansea this weekend. And among the things I discovered about the second-biggest place in Wales was that it has a superb beach, which seems to stretch for miles. Early January isn’t necessarily the optimal time to visit such a place, but so what?
Let’s permit Scotland to offer up its combination of mountain and seascape one more time before we have to head home. The Beauly Firth is the far end of the Moray Firth; this shot is looking inland, to the Highlands beyond. And yes, somewhere over there it is raining.
Being 42 