Blaise Tapp: The joys and dramas of a real British day at the beach
According to a new piece of academic research, the seaside is the one place more likely to make us nostalgic than anywhere else.
While I am not entirely sure that we needed a university study to tell us this, it does confirm mankind's obsession with all things beach-related. The first instinct of many, whenever there's even a hint of sun, is to dig out the flip flops and lilo and head for the coast.
While it's certainly true that I have a lifetime of memories of going to a huge number of different resorts, not all of them are blissfully happy ones.
Yes, being by the seaside does have magical powers and it always seems to slow down my racing, adult mind that little bit, meaning, these days, it is my go-to place should I feel the need to recharge.
However, my childhood memories of the beach are far from romantic - growing up in the '80s, options for having organised fun weren't as readily available as they are today - the only soft play my brother and I ever visited as kids was a ball pit at our local carpet showroom - meaning that the beach was our parents' destination of choice......regardless of the weather.
Searching for tiny fish and other sea creatures in rock pools is one of the most joyous things that any parent can do with their family but it ain't as much fun when it is stairodding it down with rain. Making kids eat soggy luncheon meat sarnies in a force nine gale, while sitting on a Kwik Save carrier bag, is what grown ups everywhere did 40 odd years ago.
We always knew we were in for an eventful day on the beach whenever our Old Man felt compelled to hammer the windbreak into the shingle; it never lasted more than an hour before succumbing to the elements. This didn't mean we would go home, however, far from it, as a day at the beach involved a degree of effort, meaning we weren't going to pack up and go home just because of a bit of 'weather'.
It's the long journeys that stick in my mind the most but, unlike today, there weren't gadgets and in-car entertainment to take wile away the hours - just endless of i-spy and giving one's siblings dead legs. Being in the back of a Mark 2 Escort for four hours on a round trip to Blackpool, while listening to the same three tapes that some bloke from our parents' work had recorded, felt like a form of torture.
I'd like to think that these experiences have shaped my approach to mandated fun and whether we go to the beach, which these days is only 30 minutes from home, we make sure we don't outstay our welcome and will often take our two the arcade as a form off pay off.
My hope is that, when they are my age, they will have fonder memories of childhood seaside trips than I do.