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Monday 20 May 2019

ST BEES HEAD, RAVENGLASS AND SEASCALE. 15 MAY 2019.

It was Wednesday already.
Beach Buoy was really getting 
into a routine; a wonderful routine; a routine where the sea was a minute away and the weather was fantastic. A routine where he could walk a beach whilst thinking about where to visit later in the day.
No matter where it was it would begin with B and end in each.
It was liberating letting worries go and becoming a beach bum for a week.
Back to van.
Bed mode to beach-mobile.
Shower.
Off to Ravenglass.
Beach Buoy had been to Ravenglass many years ago and had vague memories 
about it.


Beach Buoy parked up near the Railway Station.
He went on a beach hunt and ended up walking down a Staithes like street to what looked like the sea but was in fact the River and its estuary.
A heavy metal gate stood at the end of the street to protect when the threat of flooding raised its white 
wavey head.
A rusting anchor lies in the estuary just beyond the flood gate.

Beach Buoy walked to the water.
The sea lay beyond a dune island  to the north and the south side of the mainland.

The colours were 
almost  perfect.
It was a nice place but Beach Buoy just wasn't feeling it
They wandered 
along to a narrower, more grassed section of  the riverbank and had a sit and think.
Nearby, a local sat on a public bench and read her book in the sun.
motorcyclist dismounted his stead, well Honda to be more accurate. 

He took off his helmet and hung it on one of the bike's mirrors
  He walked to another bench, unzipped his leather jacket, reached inside and produced a book.
He sat and read.
It all seemed a little like the scene from a spy film.
He could see it now.
Scene One.
Lady pauses, looks at watch and gives a fake shock look.
She stands and walks to nearby car and drives off.


Scene Two.

Close up of the book that she has left on the bench.
Its paperback front cover flapping in the slight breeze coming down the estuary.


Scene Three.
The Motorcyclist stands up.
He places his book back inside his leather jacket and zips it closed.
He walks slowly down the river bank as far as the book bench and sits a while.
He glances around as if admiring the views, but it is fairly obvious he is checking to see if he is being watched.


Scene Four.

Close up of the biker's hand as he reached for the "Forgotten." book.

Scene Five.
He stands and returns to the motorcycle and flips up the seat and places the "Found" book into a void in the motorcycle's frame.


 Scene Six.
The biker makes a call on his mobile phone.
He puts on his helmet and rides back into the direction that he had arrived in.


Scene Seven.
A view from above.
The motorcycle passes under an old brick built railway bridge.
Not far behind, a car, a large 4 wheel drive also passes under the same bridge.
The motorcycle doesn't emerge from the underside of the bridge; the car does.

Scene Eight.
A train crosses the bridge.
Credits start to roll....
THE END.



Ravenglass has a roman and a railway heritage.
Combined with the river that made the place the 3 Rs.
Beach Buoy headed over a railway bridges he had seen sign for a cafe.He thought he would support the local shops rather than a cuppa in the van.


NO DOGS.

Beach Buoy and a banned Stubborn Dog headed back to the van...
They had put £4 in the car park meter expecting to stay longer than the little over an hour that they did.

"Thats it." thought Beach Buoy.
He started up the van and began to drive; unsure of just where they were heading to be honest.

Beach Buoy followed the signs for Seascale.
He stopped at a very small Co-op shop to buy something for lunch.As with all shops there are certain sections where the very same thing happens....
Beach Buoy stood to the side of the small narrow sandwich section.
A workman and a lady stood looking at the selection on offer as though the fare was made wild and wonderful contents that they had never heard of before. 
They both had same blank look as they tried to imagine what a Yeti and moon dust sandwich would taste like... you know what I mean?
Finally they had made their "Exotic" choices and moved on, no doubt to the yoghurt section and do the very same again.
"Unicorn and mist yoghurt!"
Beach Buoy stood in front of the sandwich selection.
"This won't take long."
A couple of minutes later, there he was with the very same blank look on his face......
He gave in and just grabbed  the nearest one.
It turns out, the moon dust compliments the Yeti perfectly.
It was tasty, not at all abominable.

 He drove down to the sea front car park.
FREE PARKING
the sign stated
THANKS TO THE GENEROSITY OF LOCAL PEOPLE
it added
DONATIONS WELCOME
it continued.

Beach Buoy dropped a couple of pound coins into the slot that had been made in a small brick structure.
He sat in the back of the van looking at the beach filled scene ahead.
He was very pleasantly surprised.
It wasn't a massive place.
The beach stretched for miles. 
Beach Buoy made a cuppa in the van and ate the sandwich.

A large Black Dog ran by with a lead attached to the dog but no owner attached to the lead.

The car park was busy.
It was very warm.
Along from Beach Buoy, another white VW camper owner stood by his vehicle. The man had a long beard and plenty of tattoos. All of the available doors were open on this van as its owner stood alongside talking to another beard man.
A lot of pointing was taking place. 

Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog headed for the beach.
The tide was way out and the sun was hot.

They walked along the promenade that eventually led to the beach itself.

A little further south was an interesting looking house and an old section of sea wall?
Some of the cliffs had slipped meaning that sections of the fencing had ended up pointing out to sea instead of standing upright; another take on sea defence as they looked like guns ready to defend an attack.
Beach Buoy turned to head back north

The beach was impressive but as with others nearby it looked very tidal. So maybe a check of the tide tables before a visit would be a good idea.
It was such a clear day.
The Isle of Man could be seen from the beach.

They headed back to the Promenade and admired the view.

Beach Buoy liked Seascale.
He was feeling very chilled.

They drove back to St. Bees Head.
later that night
an evening 
stroll took place 
Beach Buoy had unwound.
Jeans became shorts.
Boots became shoes.
Hoodie became T Shirt.
He was tanned and hadn't shaved all week.
He felt great.

BEACH BUOY.