Trusthorpe

When I was a kid, going to the seaside meant sticking to a strict but essential agenda. First we had to find a place on the beach, then buy a bucket and spade to build sandcastles and dig very big holes. This was usually followed by a game of beach cricket, all briefly interrupted by the occasional venture down to the sea. For lunch we had Fish and Chips followed by a whipped ice cream with a flake in it. Later we would go to the funfair and then empty all of my dad’s loose change in to the numerous penny arcades. Before going home we would buy a jar of sweet pebbles and some sticks of rock for my mates.

We now of course live in a very different age, one of 24 hour TV entertainment, Game consoles, internet, and mobile phones. Things would now surely be very different for a kid of today at the seaside. But here in Mablethorpe, everything I wanted as a kid was still there, the shop selling beach toys, the fun fair and arcades, the chip shops and sweet shops. They were all exactly the same as I remembered it from my younger days. It seems that today’s generation has the very same agenda as I had at the seaside.

I can remember once buying my Mom a cheap shell ornament from a shop that sold almost exclusively shell related items, and here I was in just such a shop. I asked the lady if they still sold the big shells that, when you put them against your ear, you could hear the sea. “The shops full of them” she said and just to prove the point her husband picked one up and placed it against my ear. “It’s the blood in your ear making the sound” he told me, which sort of spoilt the mystery of it all, but at least I now know the science behind it.

I had recently been to a business seminar entitled “The only permanent thing in life is change”. Obviously the author had not just come back from a weekend in Mablethorpe.

We were staying in a place called Trusthorpe, which was positioned almost exactly between the 2 very popular seaside resorts of Mablethorpe and Sutton on Sea. The site itself was called “Old Garth Cottages”, which comprised of a field big enough for about 6 caravans or Motorhomes. The beauty of it, though, was it’s location to the beach. Quite simply all you needed to do was walk through a gate, climb up a bank and there was the beach. Next door was a holiday complex with a nice little club and, tonight being Thursday, was Bingo night. Now I normally avoid Bingo like the plague, as my experience is of a Bingo caller talking in a monotone voice and lots of old ladies saying “shush” to anyone who dare speak. On this night though, when I needed just 2 more numbers to win the star prize of £60, I was hanging on to the caller’s every word and telling the person next to me to “Shush”. Some very rich person who didn’t need the money as much as I did then shouted out that he’d won and I hated him. It’s probably best I leave the Bingo alone for a while.

On this trip the kids had both got better offers and decided not come, which left just me, Kim and Ollie the dog. We decided we were going to have a very relaxing few days just taking it easy. Unfortunately, Ollie had a totally different agenda. From the moment we pulled up he knew exactly where we were and the direction to the sea. Within minutes he was dragging me up the hill to the beach. In the short space between getting there and going to bed he had 3 runs on the beach and a mile long walk to Sutton and back. At least he will sleep well and allow us to lie-in a bit later. No chance! At 6 am he was awake and ready to go. By 6.45 I had given up all hope of pacifying him and got dressed for a mile long walk along the beach. At this time in the morning the beach was totally deserted. The beach runs from Cleethorpes in the North Down to The Wash in the South. A total of around 50 miles, and at this time in the morning it seemed we had the whole thing to ourselves. Not another human being or dog for as far as the eye could see in either direction.

On the way back I did pass someone. “Morning” I said, to which he grunted something back. I got the impression that on this 50 mile stretch of beach I was invading his space.

After a short breakfast Ollie was ready to go again. This dog was the Canine equivalent of a Super Duracell battery. Scientists have spent Billions of pounds in research to discover the sort of energy this dog has got. After half an hour or so of walking and throwing a ball for him, we ended up in Sutton on Sea, where a rest was very much needed (for me that is, the dog still had tons of energy left). We managed a cup of tea outside a seaside café before looking around the town.

From the seaside, Sutton is almost identical as Mablethorpe, however once off the beach it is very different. Apart from one beach shop, there was none of the shops selling Confectionary and beach gear, and no funfair or amusement arcades. The whole place just seemed that little bit more mature, and that was certainly true of the people wondering up and down the High Street. I may have got it totally wrong, but it seemed just the sort of place where people came to buy a retirement home. The people we met were very friendly and it seemed just the sort of place I would be happy to retire to. “It’s like God’s waiting room here” I heard someone say. It was hard not to disagree.

One of the things that became very noticeable in both Mablethorpe and Sutton was the number of beach huts. This is something that really intrigued me, so I did a bit of research in to what these were all about. Beach huts are either owned by the local Council and hired out for around £65 per week, or privately owned. A privately owned one costs around £9,000 and for that you get an 8’ x 6’ wooden shed. This works out at around £1.50 per sq foot per week to rent or £187.50 per sq foot to buy. This is serious real estate for something that can only be used for, at best, half the year and can only be used during the hours of daylight. If you are lucky, you get a tap and the facilities to make a cup of tea. If you are not quite so lucky, you get an 8’ x 6’ brightly painted garden shed. And even if you buy one, the land is still owned by the Council and so you have to pay £100 per year ground rent. But people seem to love them, and I can easily see why. On a summers day it must be great to sit and watch the world go by in the comfort of your own deckchair outside your very own garden shed right on the edge of the beach. And when it rains you just move inside and drink tea.

The coolest Beach Hut by far was a metal structure with a large glass sliding door. It was the sort of glass that was a mirror on the outside and clear on the inside, so you can see out, but nobody can see in. Just imagine sitting inside behind the glass and watching people walking past pulling their stomachs in as they look at their reflection in the glass.

After the excitement of the Bingo the previous night, we thought we’d wonder back to the club to see what entertainment they had laid on. Tonight was Karaoke, and the bar was full. The old dears were having a great time singing songs from the fifties and sixties. There were delightful renditions of songs by Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley ballads and the like. A couple in their eighties who had apparently only recently met and got engaged, were smooching around the room. “I wonder” I said “If anyone has ever had the nerve to go up there and sing Ian Dury’s Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll”. “Go on then I dare you” Kim challenged me. The looks I got reminded me of the ones I got when I first played the record to my Dad 30 odd years ago.

It was mid April and, according to the weatherman, we were enjoying temperatures well into double figures, however the northerly wind, although not particularly strong, was making it feel closer to zero. After three days of wandering up and down the beach, it had managed to force its way through my clothes, through my skin and was now gnawing at my bones. As we had a dog with us, we couldn’t just call in to a café to warm up. Fortunately, overlooking the beach was a pub (aptly called “The Beach”) which had a large sign in the window announcing “Dogs are allowed in this room”. We didn’t need a second invitation. The food was very basic but very good and reasonably priced. I would happily have paid a lot more for a lot less just to get out of the wind for a while. Ollie was finally showing signs of tiredness. It had taken us three days but I think the “Duracell dog” was finally starting to run low on energy.

I enjoyed the short break in Trusthorpe, but have to admit I was quite looking forward to moving back inland to where the weather actually felt like summer was not so far away.