shore roar blog

I Moved From London to a Small Seaside Town for “A Slower Pace of Life” and Have Somehow Ended Up Busier Than Ever

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I Moved From London to a Small Seaside Town for “A Slower Pace of Life” and Have Somehow Ended Up Busier Than Ever – A coastal relocation diary entry on the surprising discovery that small-town life comes with its own relentless, specific kind of schedule

The Seagulls in This Town Have Developed a Genuinely Sophisticated Understanding of Which Café Tables Get Left Unattended, and I Respect It

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The Seagulls in This Town Have Developed a Genuinely Sophisticated Understanding of Which Café Tables Get Left Unattended, and I Respect It – A coastal town diary entry on the increasingly strategic, almost tactical behaviour of the local gull population toward unsuspecting chip-eaters

I Have Now Attended Four Consecutive Town Council Meetings About the Proposed New Bench on the Seafront, and We Are No Closer to a Decision

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I Have Now Attended Four Consecutive Town Council Meetings About the Proposed New Bench on the Seafront, and We Are No Closer to a Decision – A coastal town diary entry on the genuinely astonishing amount of civic passion a single piece of seaside furniture can generate

I Tried to Learn to Read the Tide Tables Properly and Discovered I Have Been Getting Stranded on the Same Sandbank for Three Years Out of Pure Laziness

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I Tried to Learn to Read the Tide Tables Properly and Discovered I Have Been Getting Stranded on the Same Sandbank for Three Years Out of Pure Laziness – A coastal living diary entry on the genuinely humbling realisation that a freely available tool could have prevented years of soggy, undignified walks home

Our Local Fish and Chip Shops Have an Unspoken but Absolutely Rigid Loyalty System, and Switching Shops Apparently Counts as a Minor Betrayal

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Our Local Fish and Chip Shops Have an Unspoken but Absolutely Rigid Loyalty System, and Switching Shops Apparently Counts as a Minor Betrayal – A coastal town diary entry on the surprisingly serious, entirely unwritten social contract governing which chippy you’re allowed to frequent