West Wittering Beach

They warned me, “It’s not the same. It’s all pebbles and seaweed, the waves are tiny and the water is freezing!” English beaches are not well renowned among Australians. But I have to say, my visit to West Wittering Beach lived up to none of the ominous warnings. There was sand, there was sun, there were waves (small, but waves nonetheless) and there was even a red and yellow beach flag. Beach-going in England is certainly a different experience to beach-going back home. It cost us a fiver to get through the gate! The sounds are those of birds I’m familiar with through British murder mysteries set in small coastal villages. The water doesn’t have that luminous blue clarity, but it was blissful to dive in and float around. If it weren’t for the lack of surfboards, it could have been Seven Mile Beach… on a particularly flat day. To my newly landlocked senses, it was sublime.


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A girl with a camera, a toddler and a sewing machine. Making sense of Germany... and life in general.

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