Day 1 | Scarborough

He shouted the words first, me unable - in my breath-knocked-out-of-me state, so overwhelmed, was I, by the I-can-see-the-sea-ness - to form my own, in response to the unfurling-before-me scene, quick enough. 

A parking spot found almost instantly, we pulled up and piled out, pausing - just before dragging out the suitcase, laptop bag, holdall, and shoes from the car's boot and making our way across to the blue-fronted guesthouse, The Greno - to take in the scope of the North Bay below us, its beach framed with parked bumper-to-boot cars, and sands dotted with from-swimsuit-to-wet-suit (to dressed-for-British weather!) forms.

Returning to the sea front - after an in-our-room cuppa, and a detour to the local cricket pitch - we spend a rub-shoulders-alongside-others moment with Freddie before matching our footsteps to the curve of the promenade, the squawking-seagull decorated cliff face for company to our right, and a wall to our left beyond which the sun-lit-surf crashed. Passing under the Gatehouse, our stop to share roast-potato-alike chips on a bench by Luna Park is sound-tracked by the heavy nattering of holiday-makers, and the oft-yelps from those partaking in the amusement park's offerings, views laced with luminous signage and primary-coloured flags swiftly shape-shifting in the sea breeze.

Looping along the harbour front, boats bobbing with the soft moving of the 'neath waves, we took in the amusement arcades with toys ready (or not, as was our experience!) for claw-grabbing, penny slots whirring-into filled-with-2ps action, and steering wheels braced for the hands of excitable children and adults alike.

Matching our step-by-steps further up into town, we weaved up the narrow side streets, meeting wider, new-er-town shop fronts and fill-yourself-with-grub-eries, our feet marching us onwards and towards a pause-for-food restaurant, before doing their part in dragging our full-bellied selves to the castle walls, around which we plodded, searching for an "is it here?" entrance-way, meeting German teenagers in large groups singing to, and loud-talking over, Germanic rap music (notes familiar to our travelled-through-Germany-in-Eric ears), their booms echoing out across the grey stone walls, tumbling down the grassy hills, and following us around the take-us-back-to-the-B-&-B path, it's recognisable facade just-about clock-able in the now-twilight-ed sky.

Since my first go at editing a video, I've been utterly enraptured by the experience of shooting my moving-moments, spending each day of our trip with my camera hung around my neck. The first of 4 videos, this of Scarborough is shared alongside my recent tries on my newly put-together (so, still very much in its infancyYouTube channel!