I spent Sunday over in Bridlington. This is a coastal holiday town on the east of the country and is still in Yorkshire so I feel justified in writing about it (given that I’m supposed to write about my adventures in Yorkshire).
I’ll start by saying that I never used to go to the coast on holidays when I was a kid because I was brought up on the east coast of Scotland so it would be like sending Eskimos on holiday to Antarctica.
However, at school after our summer holidays some of my friends would tell amazing stories of their trips to Scarborough with water slides as high as Everest and so many exciting, wonderful things to do. Of course, when I actually went to Scarborough last year (just for a day I might add) I was somewhat disappointed and couldn’t really see past the traditional British tourist tat (it was far too much like Blackpool which is far too much like my idea of hell). So with this in mind I was prepared to be underwhelmed. And so it turned out to be.
I couldn’t really tell Bridlington apart from Scarborough – I kept getting deja vu all the time. A perfectly nice beach and village have been ruined by the sort of do-it-on-the-cheap un-classy British coastal holiday vibe. Knotted handkerchiefs and “kiss me quick” hats were order of the day. I’d sooner spend two weeks of my hard-earned holiday in a DIY superstore than there. Or perhaps I was in a bad mood. Anyway, I took the following photos: