I love British seaside places in the sunshine. One glimpse of blue sky and sun and some accompanying warmth and out come knees that haven’t seen daylight for months. Bottoms of all sorts of shapes and sizes squeezed into last year’s shorts and perhaps there was a brief thought about why they fit a bit more snugly than last year.
Fish and chip shops with queues around the corner. Ice cream cones with real Cornish ice-cream sold from vans like the one in the photo. Brings back memories of a job as a student driving one of these. “Often licked but never beaten” was the slogan on the side. We were taught how to make hollow scoops. Never sat right with me. Mine were always full scoops and sometimes an extra one. It was perhaps that generosity and lack of interest in the advances of one of the bosses that brought about the end of my short career in ice-cream. The vans with their tunes always remind me of that time. “I’m not in love” was the favourite song on the radio that summer. Ah the late seventies.
Plymouth in the sunshine in March.
More smiling at strangers is allowed when the sun shines. Shy somewhat hesitant smiles for some, big generous confident grins for others. I love that. British reserve versus the pull of the sunshine. And the sunshine wins. Just.