I do Like to be Beside the Seaside

Vanda RaleVSka

A day out on the beach? In January? you must be joking!

This is a reaction I quite often hear when getting ready for a trip to the wind-swept seaside on a freezing cold winter morning. It’s not for everybody; however, for me, embracing the weather and heading out no matter the conditions have an alluring charm.

despite having grown up in a landlocked country, I have been fascinated by the sea and shore since my childhood. It started when spending summer holidays with my Mum by the Black Sea in Bulgaria. Swimming in the waves, collecting seashells on the beach, or just listening to the soothing sound of the ebb and flow, have been a constant source of my happiness since.

What started then as a pure fascination and attraction turned into a lifelong passion. Since I discovered photography and then moved to the UK, there hasn’t been any other place I would rather be. I don’t live by the seaside, but here in the UK you are never far away from a beach. So, on those days when I need a good dose of calm and tranquillity, a day trip is always a welcome fix.

With time, the passion turned into a long-term photographic project. After several years of exploring the English seaside throughout the seasons, I realised that I enjoy it most when it is peaceful and quiet – in winter.

Sometimes even on a summer day, as the English summer is not all sunshine and rainbows. You are just as likely to spend a day sheltering from a torrential downpour as you are soaking up the sunrays.

There is a solemn beauty in a deserted beach. The vast spread of waves and sand, the monotonous, senseless, yet unmatched sound when the sea meets the shingle beach, the salty breeze, lone seagulls gliding along the chilling wind. It is so indescribably comforting. It can be grim yet striking, soulful yet evocative. It has an unsurpassed and raw beauty that is wild and at the same time subtle. There is a melancholy about coastal towns out of season. They are like abandoned playgrounds, waiting in hope that their silence will yet again be broken by the happy sounds of music and laughter. It is within this nostalgic feeling of silence and solitude that I find solace. To me, there is nothing better than a bracing walk along a deserted promenade on a bleak, gloomy morning with wintry winds blasting across the sea. The sense of desolation devoid of any distractions and noise, apart from waves crashing against the shore, is what drives me to keep going back. It is a life-affirming affair, filled with comfort and deep quiet.