Why We Always Return to Bournemouth
I’m writing this on the way back from our annual beach trip – a tradition we’ve kept for over twenty years. It’s a highlight of our calendar. We’ve occasionally tried alternative locations, but we always find ourselves returning to Bournemouth.
Why is it that some youth activities fade in and out of favour, while the beach endures? The surroundings are beautiful – the sea, the sand, the air – but perhaps the most important part is how the experience brings us together to make memories.
Today will be remembered for the sheer length of time the young people stayed in the water – literally for hours – and for our game of volleyball, which grew to include young people who weren’t even part of our group but clearly felt comfortable enough to join in. Our new “YES Slough” gazebo made it obvious where we were from, which is how the Deputy Mayor, in Bournemouth with his family on a day trip from our hometown, spotted us and came over to say hello.
On the seafront with Cllr Neel Rana, Deputy Mayor of Slough
Over the years, other visits have been memorable for epic rounders games, horrendous weather, and improbable barbecues that somehow worked despite the odds. At a time when the digital world is so prominent, perhaps part of the beach’s enduring allure is how it takes us back to a simpler time.
I’m an avid listener to Radio 2’s Thought for the Day, and a recent reflection by Dean Abi Thompson captured the spirit of the beach far more eloquently than I ever could. You can listen to it here, and I’ve transcribed it below. She concludes that a beach trip is, at heart, a way of bringing new people together in old ways – and I couldn’t agree more.
Many of our staff once came with us on these very same annual beach trips as young people. This year, in one of those rare pauses between games and swims, some of them reminisced about their own memories from those days — the laughter, the freezing dips in the sea, the games that went on for hours. Hearing them talk brought home that these trips aren’t just events on a calendar; they’re part of a shared story we’ve been writing for more than two decades, making new memories in old ways.
Pause for Thought: “”Living with new people in old ways” by Dean Abi Thompson
Back in the 1950s, dozens of coaches would be organised over the summer months from pubs and clubs in Sheffield for a day trip to the East Coast. I’ve heard from some old Sheffielders that you could even buy the local Sheffield newspaper on the seafront during these months because half of Sheffield were in Bridlington. That, and the football news in the paper called The Green ’Un.
Last weekend, the sun was super hot and I went to the seaside alongside a coachload of people from Sheffield Cathedral. Our whole community was represented — young and old, comfortably off, vulnerably housed, recent immigrants, and those who were born and bred in Sheffield. We all rolled up our trousers, paddled in the cool sea, wore daft hats, ate fish and chips soaked in malt vinegar and salt, got covered in melting ice cream, and giggled when some of our group had their hot dogs pinched by seagulls.
It’s always an old tradition — an old tradition where fresh memories were made and new friendships were forged.
As we got on the coach to make our way home, there was quite a bit of emotion expressed amidst the fun, laughter, and sunshine. People were remembering family members no longer alive and childhood family holidays. There were some tears shed, and newfound friends held hands and clutched one another in soothing hugs.
Jesus said, I came that you might have life and have it abundantly. Last weekend, we did a good bit of living with new people in old ways.