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| 5-40 am. The car park was empty. The sun blazed down as they headed south. |
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| The sea lapped like a lakeside. It was bright. It was light. |
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| The 7 am club were the 6am club today and the usual greetings took place. |
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| Beach Buoy returned to the beach at 6-30pm.. it didn't last long and he was off. morning beaches are better. BEACH BUOY. |
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It was another lovely day. |
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| When the walk was done they rested up on the promenade wall. It was then that Stubborn Dog noticed that they had knocked down the village eyesore. BEACH BUOY. |
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| It was 6-56 am and the 7 am club were on their way... It was bay of contrasts this morning. Hartlepool Headland looked faint and distant like the love interest in a novel set in victorian times; well, sort of. In contrast the south of the bay was bright and fairly clear. Up in the dunes a figure walked three dogs. The figure was going up and down the undulating dunes as if riding the mad mouse that lived in the fairground that used to stand to north. (The Mad Mouse was the name of the Heater Skelter in Seaton Carew many, many years ago.) Half way along the beach, it started to rain. Beach Buoy had two hoods; neither went up. The rain was refreshing. The rain was fine. Beach Buoy and the short short man passed like ships in the night. Overhead two seagulls had a mid- air battle. perhaps it was the duo from the car park yesterday; the song and dance act? Perhaps they were arguing over top billing. "GULL & BIRD!" "NO!" "BIRD & GULL!" At the grey rocks, the grey sea kissed the sand goodbye for now as the tide headed out. |
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| The items above were found and left behind. |
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| The pot / stone train was .... a keeper. |
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| These were also left behind. BEACH BUOY. |
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| Back to Seaton Carew. It was 6-50 am. Two Seagulls walked side by side as if rehearsing for a rendition of Give Me The Moonlight. The tide was well, there wasn't a breath of wind to be had. Then they had passed the golf club its flag was draped, covering the top of the flagpole like some german tourists towel claiming a sunbed. |
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| The was a greyness about the beach today. It seemed a darker shade or two after all of the last few weeks brightness. |
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| Beach Buoy spotted the net and rope separately. They soon became tangled as he dragged them along to the rubbish bin. BEACH BUOY. |
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| It was the last morning. The weather summed up the mood perfectly. Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog crossed the bouncy and now wet bridge to the beach. Beach Buoy stood looking out to sea. He had finally figured out north and south... The Isle of Man looked faint and almost ready to leave. A bright red fishing boat crossed the bay from right to left aka north to south. Down on the beach a lady threw a ball in the sea for her dog to retrieve. To be honest it looked more than a little too far. The dog must have carried out an on-site risk assessment and headed back without the ball. The owner encouraged it to go further than the dog was comfortable with. The dog was willing to please as we all are at times and went that "Extra mile." The lady cheered as the dog approached the beach; ball in mouth. She held her arms aloft as though they had won the World Cup. Raindrops began to fall more heavily on Beach Buoy's hood. There would be no open top bus parade today! On the beach worm casts spiralled upwards; they would soon be flattened by the in-coming tide. Random dog walkers walked their dogs. Up behind the promenade, lights in the long narrow beach side tearooms twinkled in the rainy grey morning. Beach Buoy looked back to see the FA Cup winners leave the beach with trophy in hand... and ball still in mouth. Beach Buoy watched as four waterproofed hikers went to the water's edge. They were attempting to touch their boots in the water, but not get their boots wet. Were they beginning or ending their journey? The wet boot squad dripped their way to the lifeboat station. He watched as they tried to take a decent group photograph by means of a timer set on one of the groups mobile phones; it wasn't working..."Excuse me. would you like me to take a group photograph for you?" asked Beach Buoy. The group were very grateful for the offer. Beach Buoy chatted after taking a couple of photographs for the hikers. They were off to Robin Hoods Bay. Beach Buoys roots are there; his family tree roots. The old Church's graveyard is full of them. They said their farewells and wishes of good luck. Beach Buoy noticed two cyclists wetting their bike tyres in the Irish Sea; a start or finish? They took turns taking each others photographs. Beach Buoy was just about to offer the same group photograph option to the pair when one of the four hikers broke free and did so... passing on the favour. |
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| Beach Buoy sorted the van, sorted himself and left. It had been special. Beach Buoy had been Beach Buoy first time in a long time. He hoped beyond hope that he would get the chance to Beach Buoy again and again and again..... BEACH BUOY. |
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| It was the last full day/night of the stay..... Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog wandered down onto St Bees Head Beach after a short walk on the small promenade. The sun was shining down and there was a lovely breeze blowing down the Irish Sea. The novelty of staying overnight just a minute's walk from the sea would never fade. Today the tide was such that it allowed them to go beyond the groynes. *THINKS.* now that's a good title for a book. BEYOND THE GROYNES by Beach Buoy. Not to be confused with BEYOND THE GROINS (Thats a different type of book altogether!) They walked south for around fifteen minutes or so. Beach Buoy had only found a couple of pieces of sea glass. There wasn't much at all and there is no way he would call it a hot spot by any stretch of his limited imagination. He looked around . There was no short short man, no Mari the poodle. Every beach is different but they all have their regulars, faces and silhouettes that, in time, would become familiar. The woman with a Retriever that was as white and almost as big as a Polar Bear and dare we say almost as stubborn as Stubborn Dog. (Almost.) The girl who appeared down the hill with a collie dog and headed for the sea, walked the beach and headed off to who knows where? They and others with a set pattern of the day and of their beach visits. After a shower and a tidy up, Beach Buoy made a coffee. He sat smug with a mug. What an idyllic spot! Beach Buoy sat and made notes in his notebook to use as reference later when blogging about the adventure, every now and then he would look at the view, check no one had stolen the isle of Man and continue. Out of the back window he could see that it was slightly fresher today. Random white horses appeared on the sea. The tide had come in a little, the groynes were partially covered... His mind began to wander... (It always, always wanders but this was an extra wander, then add two foot). A Horse racing commentary style voice spoke in his head... "And here we are now, already for the 10 o'clock Groyne Hurdle from the St Bees Course. Sponsored by Life's a Beach. Here is the betting..... Ocean Spray 15 -1 High Tide 12-1 Isthatadolphin 5-1 Shesellsseashells 2-1 Squids in 2-1 Cat (a meringue).... evens 🙈🙉🙊 Beyond the races, a steady stream of hikers began to climb St Bees Head. Some dressed as mountaineers, some in beach wear. Some with rucksacks, some with babies. The Seagulls that soared above the head on the up-draught had no doubt seen it all before. Beach Buoy reached for the map of Cumbria.... Should he venture out? Yes. Even though a day of just sitting would have done. His finger travelled the coast, like one of the soaring seagulls deciding just where to land. MARYPORT.  |
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| It was 12-15pm It was indeed Maryport. Beach Buoy maybe should have consulted a map of the town too? He parked up early on in the docks system, not realising it was all a bit of a walk down to the pier. He went up and down a number of quaysides as he headed for the pier light. The harbour had boats of all types and state of repair. Some rusted. Some busted. Some worthy of the sea. |
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| A raised dock gate didn't help it the sort cut department! |
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| Nets dried in the baking sun. Part of the quayside is gated, leading to a small stop for caravans and motorhomes and the like. It consisted of the two barriers and a number of electric hook up points and water supply; that was it. It did look a little out of place to say the least. A steady train of white vans driven by a steady supply of white van men tootled around the quaysides. (Beach Buoy was later to decide that "Tootle." meant going slow because they were lost.) Beach Buoy went beyond another tall wall and still no pier. it seemed like a dead end? An ambulance with flashing lights but no siren approached the same dead end. "Well if they are lost, what chance do I have?" Beach Buoy said to himself. Phone out. Google maps! Back to van for a more a more calculated attempt to reach the summit. aka Pier Light. Beach Buoy joined the procession of white vans travelling the quayside in his ... white van! |
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| Finally Beach Buoy reached the light. Sadly Richard O'Brien was not there to present Beach Buoy with his crystal for competing the maze. Beach Buoy parked up near to the light and walked the narrow jetty that led from it. |
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| There were only a few parking spaces and they felt a little vulnerable as a convoy of bright orange trucks rattled past to be loaded with gravel by a digger that was down on the beach to the south of the jetty. |
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| Beach Buoy may not have received a crystal for his endeavours but a cuppa with a view of Scotland would suffice. Beach Buoy got the map out again and alternating between binoculars and book was picking off the Scottish landmarks. Kirkcudbright. Dalbeattie. Thoughts of more travels filled Beach Buoy's head; travels with borders to cross. |
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| The light stood proudly in the bright sunlight and looked magnificent. |
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| Beach Buoy did see a boat with a wind- tattered BREXIT flag. In its battered state it read BREXI which ..... sounded Italian and seemed slightly ironic; to Beach Buoy at least... a trip to base camp and a 8-30pm walk on St Bees Head Beach finished the day. BEACH BUOY. |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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| A rusting anchor lies in the estuary just beyond the flood gate. |
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| 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. A 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. |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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| Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog headed for the beach. The tide was way out and the sun was hot. |
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| They walked along the promenade that eventually led to the beach itself. |
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| 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 |
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| 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. |
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| They headed back to the Promenade and admired the view. |
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| 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. |
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| The day started with a cuppa with a sea view; an Irish Sea view. Then it was time for a beach, it was 7-30am. The tide was high. The sky was clear. The sun was out. It felt like summer. It smelt like summer. Beach Buoy really needed this break. From the beach some figures could already be seen making their way up St. Bees Head. After a short walk it was breakfast, then the shower block. Back at the van it was time to transform bedroom mode into see a new beach mode. The van was pitched right up to St.Bees Head. As Beach Buoy altered the van he could hear a steady crunch of gravel as the train of people made their way up the Head. Some with backpacks, some with handbags and some with no bags at all. Beach Buoy wondered just how busy it becomes during the school holidays? |
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| 10-38am. Allonby Beach, Cumbria. Another new beach for Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog to have a mooch about on. The tide was a canny way out on the long curved beach. The beach was edged with dunes. The sun was out and it was a warm day. There was a pleasant breeze from the North. To the South there seemed to be a metal detectorist's convention up on a distant strand line, as a stretch of people walked the strand line's length. It turns out that they were litter picking; the long picking claws looking like metal detectors from a distance. |
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| Out at sea, familiar looking wind turbines stood proud in front of an unfamiliar view of Scotland. Beach Buoy had parked up at the south end of the village. The car park was in front of a line of bungalows; seaside bungalows. Beach Buoy walked North on the beach, the village seemed to become more densely populated as he continued? The beach was a vast expanse. Beach Buoy had been very lucky with the tide on this adventure. The tides had been peaking early morning, leaving exposed beaches to be explored more and more as the day progressed. |
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| Beach Buoy got into the spirit of things a little and picked up a few beach clean items from the various strand lines of the past that ran around the bay. Each marked as it was by a fine line of brown seaweed drying in the sun's heat. Beach Buoy headed for the dunes and the village beyond. Large chunks of driftwood laid stranded up in the dunes. Presumably they had ended up there in a stormy or winter sea? They laid, baking in the sun dreaming of a rough sea to let them sail the oceans. |
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| From the dunes the houses looked a variety of styles, age and type. Beyond the dunes there was a promenade. It was basically a tarmac path the followed the dune's curve or vice versa. After the prom there was grass and then a waterway that was crossed by a number of small footbridges. Beach Buoy had a sit and think on a bench dedicated to Ken & Monica Shuttleworth as Stubborn Dog found shade in the shadow of the bench. As he sat there he watched as small butterflies fluttered on the dune edge. A couple walked by, hand in hand. "Looks like it was a chapel or something?stated the man. Beach Buoy thought that everything is something surely? If not, it can be nothing, but surely even nothing is something? The lady tried to clear things up by saying that it was, "A funny old building." That was it case closed ! As Beach Buoy unwound a little more on the bench he watched as bees bumbled from dandelion to dandelion. The peace was broken somewhat by a large red tractor as it rumbled down the high street towing what looked like a large rusting shed on wheels. Stubborn Dog wasn't impressed and if anything looked bored? Beach Buoy washed his face in sunlight with both of his hands and stood up. |
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| They crossed one of the numerous foot bridges and explored. |
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| Beach Buoy's attention was drawn to three racing cyclists who were about to whizz past whilst talking loudly? Perhaps it was the Allonby Constabulary in disguise in hot pursuit of the rusting shed on wheels thief? |
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| Beach Buoy made his way to the GENTS. Check list WC.. one. ( It had an old wooden door and on the inside was written STUPID BREXIT CANTS ).. Beach Buoy may have got a letter or two wrong? Urinal.. one. Sink.. one. Tap.. one. Towels/ hand dryer ....... none. He walked out doing the flappy hand thing to dry his hands a little he looked up to see on the ceiling a phone number for SWAP WIFE PIX. Thats men's toilets for you wherever you may be... |
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| Beach Buoy made his way back to the van so that he could do a proper job of a hand wash. |
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| As he headed back he admired the differing houses that lined either side of the long narrow looking village. Two local ladies had lunch on the grass between two parked cars. Their choice of music was Adele's "Rolling in the deep." quite an apt song considering the seaside surroundings. Beach Buoy passed a Chip Shop. THE CODFATHER. He walked onwards to the van, washed his hands and returned to order lunch. He sat in the van made a brew and looked out over to Scotland as he ate, drank and relaxed ... again. Once refreshed he headed for base camp. Allonby was an interesting place. Beach Buoy liked Allonby. |
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| Later that day it was back on St. Bees Head Beach for an early evening stroll. The beach was busy and the tide was so low.... |
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| The beach went on and on and on .... BEACH BUOY. |
