Apart from from one, or maybe two, occasions in my childhood, and indeed adulthood, I rarely experienced what we call a traditional British seaside holiday. I know we went to West Bay in Dorset and later I had a ‘lads holiday’ in Weymouth, but that was pretty well it. Sadly, on all – or is it both? – occasions I honestly can’t remember. The weather was terrible and to the best of my recollection we never once visited the beach. Yesterday, I turned back time as my long-suffering partner and I visited the Victorian seaside town of Clevedon in Somerset.
I do not know the town well but I have always liked what I have seen. The ancient pier remains a wonder, there are numerous excellent eateries and independent shops and while it does feel a little posh to this boy from working class Bristol, it’s a welcoming place.
It’s certainly a town of contrasts. Leafy Hill Road, high up in the town, is glorious, topped off with that most agreeable of establishments, a book shop. Books On The Hill has the advantage not just of location but also the availability of a stunning range of cakes. I am in the position where I am avoiding anything of high calorific content, but not independent book shops. It is the law, at least in my world, that browsing books in itself is not enough. In order to sustain the bookshops I so love, I must buy yet another book, which I did. Lunch in the excellent Tea Veranda was a Brucie Bonus for me. A return trip is in order.
Down to the front and here’s the biggest contrast of all. From the small independent businesses on quiet Hill Road to a typical British seaside resort. Something I was not expecting, probably because, as I said earlier, I don’t know the town anywhere as well as I thought I did.
The Marine Lake, which gets filled by the tide, was rammed. The water does not look particularly appetising, to say the least, but the last time measurements were taken in July the water quality was described as ‘excellent’. From the number of swimmers braving the freezing water, it seemed that the brown-coloured water was perfectly fine.
Boys were out in their swim shorts, girls in their backless bikini bottoms (which did come as quite a surprise to easily shocked old person), as well as family groups of all shapes and sizes, everyone was enjoying their day.
Just along the front are the refreshment shops. They too are extremely busy, one of which had a Bentley parked behind it, an indication perhaps that running a fast food store on the seafront is a lucrative business. The vinegary smell from the fish and chip shop was all but irresistible, though thankfully having already enjoyed a light lunch in the café meant my willpower was just about sufficient.
The atmosphere was very much like Weston Super Mare, albeit without the sandy beach. It was lively without being raucous, slightly shouty but unthreatening. I felt very much at home as I chomped on my vanilla ice cream, next to a table at which were some sweet people with learning difficulties who it appeared were having the best day of their lives.
The bowling club was full, the crazy golf completely empty and the miniature railway not up and running yet, although the track remains largely intact. Even though I am doddery old pensioner these days, the child in me who adores any form of train remains. I can’t wait for it to be running again.
The seaside is far from a cheap day out. My one scoop ice cream cone came in at close to a fiver – so that’s where the Bentley came from – and the fish and chip shop next door was considerably dearer than our local chippy. But who’s complaining? These businesses are closed for half the year and the owners have to make a crust somehow.
My guess is that the happy holidaymakers were a combination of locals and day trippers. Clevedon is not full of cheap and cheerful B&Bs but it easily accessible for the likes of us from The Big City (Bristol).
We weren’t there for long, but I have to say we really enjoyed both sides to the town. Whether Clevedon would have been so busy if the weather had been its usual misbehaving summer self, I very much doubt it, but clearly people must make hay while the sun is shining.
Faded seaside glamour? Not a bit of it. The Great British Seaside is as Great as ever.
