Crumbling

We took a drive a few days ago to the coast which is eroding faster than the conservatives trusting Boris. The way it’s going my garden will be by the sea in thirty years time. We went to Spurn Point, a wild and beautiful long curved piece of land. It’s the kind of place you can go on the hottest day of the year and still have to wear a wooly hat and a scarf. The shrinking strip is completely exposed to the elements, the waves seem to crash into it all year round. The beach goes all the way up the East coast for miles to lively seaside towns, all amusements, fish and chips or an ice cream, or all three if you’re in the money. But here all is quiet, and the sea is taking the land, piece by piece.

The old Pillboxes from the second world war that were made to withstand a German invasion are disappearing quickly.

A bit further up the coast, the caravan park will soon be floating. Holiday homes turning into holiday barges. When you rent one now you get a free wetsuit and snorkel.

Luckily for us the carpark was still there when we got back, but by next week you never know….