Nosey dogs of all shapes, colours and sizes are eager to investigate the inside of our hut before being yanked away by their lead, held by an absent minded owner.Ī people conscious, bucket and spade laden grandma walks ahead of her dawdling grandson calling out we are holding everyone up here. Sand in my shoes a small child moans, nestled in his Dad's arms as they wander towards the bucket and spade shop. Pastel blue and white interior with shells dangling from string, a kettle whistling on a camping stove, empty cups awaiting the hot water while pretty, tied back curtains flutter in the breeze.

They are hoping to see a quintessential beach hut. Unembarrassed curiosity disappointed when all they see are two chairs occupied by Mr H and me, our rucksack, knitting, books and shoes abandoned on the floor. It was grey on Tuesday but we still went for a swim a mature lady giggles as she and her companion walk, engrossed in their friendly chitter chatter, oblivious to my pen scratching across the page of my notebook.Īlmost everyone peers inside as they pass. fades with the phone owners footsteps crunching on the pebbled beach in front of us. Hello you are through to British Gas if you have a boiler breakdown press 1. They stop, turn their heads and smile a thank you. Maybe an avocado bagel from the kiosk I think. I mull over how long I should leave it before I mention my hunger to Mr H, knowing he will offer to fetch me something as I laze in my deckchair, smelling of sun cream covered skin. It must be a real pain just sitting there taking in the sunshine, as he passes while waving his arms around to take in the sunny blue sky, sea beyond and screeching seagulls. On a week away this summer a rotund man says

Galiene by Dawn Hammill