It’s almost an unspoken rite of passage that any self respecting Brit would try and avoid a visit to the seaside on the August bank holiday. No matter how much dust your buckets and spades have collected over the summer- or even how much you crave some tangy vinegar soaked chip shop chips- you just know that about ninety percent of the population all share this thought pattern, and you simply avoid it. Right?
Wrong. Although the thought of sitting in queues of traffic around the M25 didn’t quite marry with my idea of Mr Whippy and sand beneath my toes, it wasn’t quite enough to stop me talking out my family of a trip to the coast, and instead I went in hard with the ‘GET LIV TO THE SEA’ campaign, and there we were at 10am on the hottest bank holiday on record, sat nav in tow- Whitstable bound.
Having visited the town previously (most recently the day before we visited a newborn Maggie for the first time), it was exciting to take Mags to the sea for her first ever coastal adventure, and although two and a half hours of traffic and deflating tyres do not a happy-dad-driver make (he was exceptionally patient despite endless queues)- it was more than worth it after seeing her take to doggie paddle like a fish to water (with me squealing from the sidelines like a pushy soccer mom).
After inhaling a belated breakfast of eggs, bacon and sugary tea- we strolled the high street, pattered along the pebbles and paid an obligatory visit to the ice cream van before loading back up the car and finishing the bank holiday like any sensible Brit on the 29th August- in the back garden on a sun lounger and far from the madding crowd. Well… until next year anyway!