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I bet even Scarborough's pretty today
bet it's cold.
really like the seaside in winter. So bracing and full of dogs.
bit weird don't you think?
Used to live in Margate.
It's enough to drive anyone emo.
All the seaside towns in North Cornwall are full of emo kids.
sea side towns in winter- they're always so depressing. I should know, all the places I've ever lived were by the sea. Summer's alright though
it's the most depressing place ever. in summer, winter, anytime.
growing up 100 miles inland will do that - but i can't imagine anything could be worse than an average british seaside town in the summer ;P
but the towns are pretty shit in winter, its true.
me and one of my girly friends go for a weekend at the seaside, in which to escape, which is cheap, not too horrifically tacky, has large amounts of pink wine and fish and chips, where we can stay in a really quaint B+B where the landlady learns our names and makes us cakes and is inbetween London and Manchester?
And some kind of windy beach thing which we can run around on, and cafes we can hide in from the horrible British weather etc.
Someone must have a fantastic idea...
only the midlands.
I'd suggest you should go to Cromer in norfolk.
sorry to break it to you. :-D
I have no idea where to go, sorry. And 'good night' for Saturday, when you suddenly disappeared after being right behind us.
Aberystwyth fulfils all of those dreams.
wrong direction, obviously, but it's fairly quaint and full of old people.
...I know some WONDERFUL seaside-y places (what comes of purely British holidays for pretty much all my life, I guess).
But they're mostly... Cornwall or Devon... or at least down this end. And it's not very fair to make Elli travel so very very far.
Boo. We want a dirty weekend!
eastbourne is only about an hour or so from victoria by train, it's not that far out.
but i don't know anywhere north, as i never never never go north.
are the most depressing places known to man.
Morecambe is depressing at the best of times, but in the winter, with the wind whipping your lonely bones as you struggle past the debris on the 'beach', desperately searching for life...ye gads, it's a whole new level of emo. Even a welcoming pint becomes something of a chore, as you look out expecting to see frolicking families and ice cream salesmen, or at the very least poetic landscapes, and all you get is a barren landscape dominated by rotten seaweed and crashing waves with as much welcome as a rottweiler on hunger strike.
seeing Scarborough in December, the horrible tackiness was overridden by a strangely beautiful bleakness.
It's very Patrick Wolf type imagery I think