I thought I’d walk along the beach to The Slipway to get my haircut. It was a hot day (when is it not!) and the tide was out. The distance didn’t look too far, anyway I didn’t have much else to do.
Skipping over the rubbish left behind by the receding tide, I soon came across a collection of beach shacks. These were made of driftwood and assorted rubbish such as the front section of a car. There was a huge number of car tyres and they were used in all manner of ways, not just building the structures, but de-marking properties.
People were friendly and called out to me as I passed. I stop regularly to chat to people and found a lot of little businesses surviving on the sand. Predictably there were fishermen (I walked past the fish market) and snack sellers but also a pigeon breeder who was keen for me to see them. The smell was unpleasant.
There were men fixing up and cleaning their boats and washing hanging out everywhere, not just on washing lines outside the huts but strung on boats too. It was a very colourful scene.
Eventually I came to what could be described as a street, a row of shack with washing hanging out and a group of women talking and babysitting under a tree.
After about an hour of slow walking and chatting, I arrived at The Slipway where many sail boats and yachts are anchored. They they sat, bobbing on the sea, white a shining. It was in stark contrast to the purely practical wooden fishing boats I had just passed, heavy and dark and wave beaten. What a difference a few metres makes.