That seaweed smell is still an instant memory of first holidays but the chill wind on this winter’s day makes you pull your coat tight.
I was ten when I first came here, stepping into freezing cold water that turned your skin blue. I have always loved swimming in the sea.
At twenty-six I had a tooth removed as a result of botched root-surgery and I drove to the same beach. My mouth throbbed I tasted blood. I found a seat and sat down.
I saw Ten-year-old me stepping across the beach, diving into the icy sea and swimming furiously to the rocks. I climb onto the rocks but my leg tears on the serrated edges. I wade out of the water, sobbing.
“There, there,” My Mum says softly.” It’ll be alright.”
Now, as I sit looking at a sixty year old memory, she still comforts me.