England: Morecambe Beach

After the beaches of Scotland, where else could I go but another beach, this time in England. Morecambe is known for its tides, and so I booked a water view room for the weekend to see it for myself

But first, I had to get from Edinburgh, where I returned my rental car after 3 weeks (quite the bill, that one) down to Manchester, which meant a train. And with trains come train stations, which I always enjoy. This time, a casual shot out the window as we were pulling out of Carlisle station yielded this image, which I like a lot.

The drive up the M6 motorway from Manchester to Morecambe was a bit tedious, given it was not only a Friday afternoon but also the end of school term, so I clearly wasn’t the only one hitting the road for a weekend getaway. When I finally arrived at my seaside hotel, the Royal Bar and Shaker, I was so relieved to stop driving.

The bartender was also the reservations clerk, and he was also my personal guide for where exactly to park my car so it wouldn’t get ticketed or towed. Full service place, I tell ya! My room, up too flights of stairs, was an excellent place to observe the tidal action. Here is the water at high tide; note the fence and people as reference points.

And here’s the same view at low tide, again with the fence and people as reference points. That tide goes way, way, way out. It felt like I could almost walk across land to the opposite shore.

Morecambe has something I’d not seen before, a time and tide bell. A placard next to it explained how it works: as the tide rises, the bell rings, drawing attention to the tidal action, here and elsewhere around the UK (there are other time and tide bells on other parts of the coast). You can’t see it, but at the end of that rope coming down from the bell is a weight, and when the water moves it, the bell rings. You can find out more about the bells here: Time and Tide Bells. I didn’t realize there was one installed on the Isle of Lewis, not far from where I stayed on Great Bernera.

I walked around town a bit, and it was a place of contrasts. Some streets had lovely row houses, making for a beautiful scene. The promenade along the water was well-maintained, with crews planting new flowers and trashcans emptied before they overflowed. So far, so good.

But the storefronts were often empty, with graffiti (a lot of it political) on walls and fences. It’s a place that has seen better days, but with all that waterfront, I can’t help but think it will come back to full life. I hope so, it’s a small town that deserves to survive and thrive, if only they can figure things out.

One last photo of low tide, this just after sunset, when the sky was tinged orange and the beach flats had just enough water left to reflect a bit of the fading light.

Morecambe isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea; it’s mostly locals and the boardwalk is full of people from sunup to sundown. As for me, I kind of enjoyed a peek into the daily lives of people in a working-class town, from the local Saturday parkrun to families enjoying the sunny weather to the evening’s DJ-infused partying downstairs in the bar of the hotel.

England is the paradise of individuality, eccentricity, heresy, anomalies, hobbies and humors.

George Santayana