My partner Charlotte - you remember Charlotte, we met under the apples trees last autumn whilst on a working holiday - has a great passion for staying in old English seaside hotels. Each year, around July or August, she heads off to her favourite seaside hotel, The Seaview (how many have that name!) in Bournemouth, and spends a week rubbing shoulders with the holidaymakers down from London, the retired and elderly (like ourselves) who like a week or two of pampered attention, and the resident year round guests, who have opted out for a hotel instead of an old folks home. We decided to go together.
We arrived late one crisp, bright, summery morning, and a Mrs. Catherine Carstairs, the owner, greeted Charlotte with that wonderful familiarity that makes you feel right at home. ‘Your usual room,’ she said with bubbling pleasure as she led us upstairs to the second floor. Two huge bay windows looked out across a small park, with the only view of the sea seen from a small up & down window in the en suite. What a lovely sight I thought to greet one first thing in the morning! The room had two large doublebeds (I had imagined she usually came on her own!) as well as the obligatory jug & bowl on a stand, a coffee/tea maker, and a television set that virtually hung from the ceiling, creating I’m sure for the viewer a terrible crick in the neck. We unpacked, agreed just one bed would do us both, and took off like excited children for a look around the seafront.
It was sunday, and the seafront promenade was packed with people from young children to oldtimers, all intent on enjoying the bracing sea air as it swept up from the beach. Around the bay were dotted small boats with white triangular sails, as the sea whipped up a light chop of ‘whitehorses.’ The fitting thing seemed to be out there and join them. Our only way to do this was to queue up for a trip round the bay on a small sightseeing vessel called ‘The Jolly Roger.’ Soon we were all aboard, rising and falling with the waves, as the captain did a fine take-off of Long John Silver, putting all the children on board into a state of laughter! Charlotte began however to get into a state of seasickness, and the half hour trip came to an end just in time!
Back at the hotel we had a traditional ‘afternoon tea’ with scones, sponge cake, a few finger sandwiches, and a hefty pot of good English tea. Charlotte soon picked up. It was here, in the sun lounge, surrounded by tall green palms and wrought-iron furniture painted white, that we met some of the long-time resident guests. ‘Oh yes, much better than those homes for the elderly. Here the food is wonderful, and Mrs. Carstairs caters our every need. There’s always clean towels & sheets every day. The room is cleaned thoroughly every day. And we meet so many nice people - not all old like me!’ she said with a hand over her mouth as she laughed. ‘Isn’t it much more expensive than a home for the elderly’, I asked. ‘Oh no. It costs, over the course of a full year, about £200 a week. You tell me where I can get all this, in a home for the elderly, for around £800 a month.’ She was right, it seemed like a very good way to see out your years, if you remain reasonably healthy.
(Part two in next months issue)
