Walking down Bournemouth reminds me of my free and fearless youth. Running into the sea, playing in the arcades, a round of crazy golf, or trying my luck at winning a teddy on the bear lottery. Now as an adult I can appreciate filling my lungs with fresh salty air and reminiscing those golden days.
For those who don’t know Boscombe pier too well should visit and read the graphic information boards, where one tells a story about a whale. Once dragged up to the beach in the 1800s and visited as if a tourist attraction. One man was claimed to have walked 30 miles with the strong intention to march the entire length of the rotting corpse of the whale. Several steps along the body gave way and he sunk into the festering flesh.
I love the old stories which make the seaside a place so rich in history.
