The Brunette, her father and I have just spent a fortnight in Withernsea this weekend. The compulsion to stare at the locals was somewhat irresistible at times; the two people we did meet who were over five feet in height hailed from Nottingham! On arrival we were informed about our upgrade to platinum and I have to say our caravan was a bit special in a magnolia and pine kind of way. On the table in the dining kitchen lounge was our adult passport to fun! My eyes fleetingly lit up, my faculties raced, but then, remembering I was in Withernsea, realised the fun would incontestably have to be shipped in. I considered the fun miles involved with my eco-sensibilities and wistfully replaced it on the table. Father (in law) Ted is a bit of a tepid twitcher and Spurn Point was prominent on his list of attractions, if one may apply that word in this part of the world.
Spurn Point lived up to its billing, it is a point and on a beautiful milky skied Saturday morning we stepped out early to catch the murmurations of thousands of birds dancing over the Humber estuary. Ted raised his binoculars and emitted a grunt of satisfaction. I inquired as to the species with my diligent son in law spirit, he didn’t know…awesome. Undeterred I ploughed on, colour, size, number. “Clive, you’re already my favourite son in law.” I will try talking to him again tomorrow.
The erosion along this coastline is plain to see, the waves breaking on the sea defences are chocolate brown in hue containing silt that was probably a bit of Whitby just yesterday. I keep thinking I’ve got so much to do and I’m spending valuable time in a town where every second house is up for sale. Seems I’m not the only one wanting to leave.
Hang on! I’m his only son in law…