The dunes of Littlehampton
How to spend our first weekend alone together since parenthood? Walking in the rain.
Something happened last weekend, that hasn’t happened in over 13 years. My wife and I had a weekend to ourselves. Both the girls were together at a Guide sleepover, so suddenly the two of us had a night by ourselves for the first time since our eldest – now in secondary school – was born. Oh, we’ve had the odd day. But never an overnight time.
Would we still enjoy each other’s company?
As it turns out, yes. We grabbed breakfast after we dropped them off, chatted happily, before setting out for somewhere Lorna had wanted to visit for as long as we’ve been going to Littlehampton.
The dunes.
It wasn’t ideal weather. Although you can’t see it clearly in the photos, it was driving rain. But we’re hardly, beach-dwelling folk, so we walked anyway.
Yes, of course we had the place to ourselves. The only other living folks we saw was what looked like a stag party on jet skies on the river, and a bedraggled traffic warden giving both cars in the beach car park a cursory glance, before slipping into the café.
Damp among the dunes
The dunes are a site of special scientific interest (SSI) – and some areas are fenced off to protect the dunes, but also the wildlife that depends on them. Sadly, however, too many people think those restrictions just don't apply to them. There was clear littering – usually drinks containers – within the fenced-off areas, signs that the fences had been pushed through – and, most noticeably – clear paths eroded in the dunes.
Look at this:
We have similar problems with Shoreham Beach, which is also made up of the variegated shingle that's a globally rare habitat. There, barbecues are banned on the beach, to protect the habitant. But all too often, people ignore that, dumping their rich, fertilising ash into the shingle, and slowly shifting the nature of the habitat.
Here, a short drive down the coast, something similar is happening. People aren't prepared to give up even a small amount of the beach to protect wildlife. It is, frankly, depressing.
Of course, this is probably as quiet as West Beach gets. Come the summer, the hordes will be all over it, drawn by the sea, the beach, the café and the toilets. And. little by little, another rare habitat is lost to humanity's selfish indulgence.
But for now, we walked, just a couple, in nature. And remembered, among the noise of parenthood and work, just why we’re together.
And then we went to the pub.
