The Sun Comes Out In Bude

I try not to appear old. I don’t write to newspapers about young peoples attitudes; I embrace new music. I will watch reality TV, and I’ll try new things with enthusiasm. But the English beach defeats me every time.

While most people are frolicking in the water or lying out on the sand under a warm sun, you’ll find me huddled in a picnic chair grumbling about the cold. At least that’s how today started when we settled in at Bude beach. To be fair, the clouds eventually parted, and my jumper came off. I sit writing this with all the appearance of someone enjoying himself. So we got there in the end.

This beach attracts all manner of human life, as well as dog life (as long as they’re on a lead). Rio wasn’t particularly pleased about that, but she accepted it with good grace. The sands are crowded, but there is still quite a bit of space for children to throw things at each other. Not in a bad way though. This activity is sanctioned by the parents, as long as the objects being thrown are balls or frisbees, and tolerated by the rest of the holidaymakers.

Not everyone is in the water. Two youngsters have created a slide on the Sandunes by constantly climbing them before sliding down again on something that looks like a giant plate.

There is a family from London, who have a large eight month old dog, called Blue. He has been attacked in the face four times by small dogs and has never retaliated! How do I know this? It’s because the family don’t have conversations, they make announcements to each other at the volume so loud that everyone on the beach is now aware of Blue’s proud history.

Other characters include a guy in a green monster suit, and a young lad in a Crystal Palace away shirt. He stands out like a beacon of sunshine among the dark evil of Manchester United and Arsenal tops, displaying a sense of style at a tender age. At the moment, I fully suspect he’s unaware of the years of disappointment that lie ahead of him. Hopefully his strength of character and a good sense will compensate for that.

As for the man in the monster suit though; well, there’s no hope for him.

There is a techno beat in the background, provided by one or two of those young people that I don’t complain about. Someone else is playing “tennis“ with a plastic bat and ball, but their rhythm doesn’t match the music. Kites and seagulls fly over our heads, and Annie and David have just returned from a walk to provide us all with a deep fried sugary doughnut.

Rachel and I did wander up into the town of Bude at one point to buy some essentials, such as a Sudoku book and a sketch pad. Oh, and a pint in one of the few pubs nearby. (What? It’s a holiday!)

In the evening, we thought we’d go out and have a look at the sunset back at Tintagel. There was some discussion as to which was the best vantage point to see this marvel of nature, and the younger ones in our group decided to go down onto the beach. The old ones (me and Rachel) decided that perhaps the beach was inconveniently placed at the bottom of a slope that was a bit too steep, so we chose a viewing point near the Camelot Castle Hotel, which was just outside the village and on the level.

It proved to be a success. We had a lovely view of the sunset as we sat on the terrace outside this very unusual hotel. It’s a bit like a cross between a country mansion and a Gothic castle. There are paintings on the walls, all very colourful and influenced by the impressionists.

The Sun went down as expected, and a helicopter flew past which wasn’t. All the while a man played a guitar on the terrace, and a woman in the reception area was tinkling away beautifully on a piano to an empty room.

After the sun went down, we retired to the bar to finish our lagers. At that point, we were approached by a bald man in a Rupert the Bear tank top, who turned out to be the joint owner of the hotel, as well as the artist responsible for the paintings on the walls. He was personable enough, although he did ask us whether we were residents at the bar at the hotel which made us think that perhaps we shouldn’t have been there. But all he really wanted to do was say hello, and tell us about his paintings.

Unfortunately, on our way out of the hotel, we noticed pictures of Donald Trump on the walls with the other beaming co-owner of the hotel who wasn’t present tonight. Further research by Daniel when we got back to the house revealed that the owners are Trump supporters, despite not being American, and conspiracy theorists. You know, climate change is natural, COVID was a hoax.

As unusual and attractive as the hotel was, I don’t think we’ll be going back.