Summer is Chaos. Winter is Calm: Why I Love the Beach in Winter

I hate the beach in the summer. Loath it.

Sand. People. (Not Sandpeople, that’s a Star Wars thing.) Heat. Sun cream. Seaweed. Crowds. Noise. Music. The list goes on.

The dislike starts way before I even get to the beach. Sometimes the day before.

Shall we leave early? What do we need to pack? Shallwe take lunch or buy it there? What about the sun cream? Don’t forget the bottled water! Bucket and spade? Best pack a hat, justin case!

The next day:

Will we get a parking space? Which car park should we go to? Let’s try the closest and if it is full we can try the next closest…. No, lets go for the one furthest away, much more chance of getting one!

Don’t get me started on the car park charges. Once parked, you then hunt for the little black payment boxes like some kind of perverse, backwards Treasure Hunt!

“Parking: November to March – £2 for 2 hours. £5 all day.
Parking: April to October – £250 for the first 30 minutes, then £500 per hour after that”

(I exaggerate. Slightly)

I could continue but then I may come across as the moaning old man that I’m becoming, and I don’t want to give that impression. Not yet anyway.

But, the beach in the winter….

Forget all the other senses. The main thing missing is the noise.

All the above has been replaced by a mixture of three sounds. And they are not screaming at you either. They’re gentle. Calming.

The pleasure starts the day before. No preparation as if you’re going away on a three week all-inclusive holiday with a family of 5. No military planning. Just the necessary outerwear, depending on the weather.

And the parking? Both time and money saved. Empty car parks, and prices that don’t feel mortgage-approved.

You hunt for hot tea, not cold water. You smother yourself in gloves and hats, not greasy suncream. The sounds around you are more musical than an inconsiderate stereo: sea, wind, and seagulls. No music. No shouting.

Only the sounds of nature.

It is easy to take your time. To wander. Watch the one person on the beach with their dog or child. You can do it at ease, without worrying about the debt building up in the car park.

A dog chasing a ball. A lone child doing a handstand. A jogger enjoying the solitude.

Seasonally abandoned beach kiosks sit boarded up. A deserted pier.

To the summer beach lovers, this is their hell. To me, it is my heaven.

I care not that the sky is grey, not blue. I have no interest in seeing the sun. And for once, a visit to the beach will mean the sand stays at the beach.

I return to the car, often one of about five in the car park. I let the wind howl around my head one last time as I turn and face the sea.

Yes. You can keep your sun cream, high prices and summer chaos.

For me, the beach in winter is the place to be.