Chez Kay
Andrew Kay calls for us to reclaim our beach
Walking along the beach this morning, exercising the dog as I do most days, I bumped into a couple with two dogs. They were rather distressed at the re-appearance at Black Rock of a large encampment of travelling folk. I’m not even going to to try to categorise which group of travelling folk they might be, nor am I going to condone or condemn their life-style choice. Travelling is what they do, whether it be from historic or genetic roots or from a more recent life-style decision.
The couple were upset that the route of their normal walk from the Marina was now interrupted by this rather unsightly encampment. One of their dogs, an elderly chap, was disturbed by the camp dogs, and access to the small beach where he would normally take a daily dip in the sea was now restricted.
‘‘My gripe is that Brighton’s grip on parking goes by the wayside when it comes to caravans’’
I sympathised, my dog is not comfortable with the camp dogs. It’s not that they have ever done anything physical to offend, but they do tend to bark in a rather aggressive way when we approach.
My personal gripe is that Brighton’s vice like grip on parking seems to go by the wayside when it comes to these caravans. Whole swathes of our lovely seafront are restricted making access to the beach in the early hours difficult. Many of us go anyway and flaunt the parking restrictions but it’s always at the risk of getting a ticket.
So why is it that we rate paying residents should fear using one of the best commodities that the city has to offer, the beach, when these ‘visitors’ seem to be able to move in and live on it? It’s hardly fair.
As I chatted to the couple a lone figure in woolly hat carrying a transistor radio approached from the other direction, ranting loudly as he loped toward us. “Oh dear, we have already crossed twice to avoid this one.” they cried. I took a look and decided to do the same.
So there we were, trying, like so many others, to enjoy the beach. Encampments to the east of us and raving pedestrians to the west. My car is illegally parked on a double yellow line, in a spot where it offers no potential danger or nuisance I hasten to add. With one eye watching the ranting woolly hat, the other scanning for traffic wardens and my ears fixed on the distant barking of caravan dogs, my early morning walk has become an assault course of hazards.
It strikes me that if we reviewed the parking at the eastern end of Madeira Drive and encouraged people to walk there in the mornings and evenings it would feel like a safer place. The more of us that use it the more comfortable we would be. As it is now it’s a windswept no-mans land.
