I have sorted out my bucket and spade. Sadly, my beach body is a little saggy in response to 80 years of life. My sojourn in Bradwell, a cool hill village, comes to an end. Highcliffe, in Dorset, will be a little too warm in the summer but less cold in winter. I will miss the hills and people of the Peak District. Oddly enough, I fell in love with the place around 1962. I bought a map of the Peak District and was intrigued, I just had to go there. My first trip was on my BSA Bantam and a friend was on his Lambretta. I found all limestone country appealing with its promise of caves. We were down Carleswark Cavern quicker than any mole. However, seaside life must be my new future, simply to stay alive.

Village life

Village life has been a revelation. I will miss the tractors and the young boys waving at them. Add the jackdaws and replace them with Herring gulls snatching sausage rolls. Neither will I forget the mass of cottages rising up the hill, the screaming swifts and the jeopardy of flooding. I will miss the buzzards flying over, mewing. Finally, I will be glad to forego the trucks and speeding kids in cars. And all those cars dumped on crofts and even fields, along with so much junk. Most of all, I will miss the people, the friends, so often met walking around the village. We could not walk without talk, the lifeblood of the village.

Seaside Life

The seaside is the very opposite of the Peak District. Less rain, less mist and generally much warmer. People though, will be less friendly, no spontaneous chatting at the bus stop. Fewer men in overalls or displaying a body that looks as if it slogged for decades to make a living. Poncy people pumped up by their house value and smart cars. I nearly added with personalised number plates but there are plenty of those in Bradwell. There will be sand all over the rugs and gulls calling in the night. The sea will communicate with me, that swish of the gravel up the beach. The wind will create white horses and the blast will be exciting. The message: that nature rules us. We forget that at our peril.