Sandscript at the Beach Hut
This year is the centenary of Dylan Thomas, he was born 27th October 1914 and there are many events celebrating his life. One of the most original is the touring writing hut. The original hut still stands on the cliff edge looking over the River Taf estuary at The Boat House, Laugharne, Dylan’s final home. The touring shed is an exact replica, down to curling papers and cigarette butts. It is travelling on the back of a truck visiting schools. A friend suggested we put our beach hut on the back of a truck and tour around getting publicity for my books. A tempting idea; envious of friends with camper vans, I have often thought it would be fun if we could take off and travel.
A dream; the hut would probably fall to pieces if we tried to haul it onto a truck and then we would have to buy petrol. Perhaps it is best to stay put and continue paying rent to the local council for our tiny square of concrete.
Having a beach hut is almost a way of life, though most huts are small and you are not allowed to sleep in them or even stay after sunset. As there is no room to sleep, no windows and Calor gas the only power, life is primitive. Water is fetched from a standpipe, but it is all part of the fun. If you strolled along the promenade you would assume that most people enjoy sitting outside their huts in the sun, with the whistling kettle telling them it’s time for tea. But more is happening; the beach hut is basically a store cupboard for everything from swimming costumes and buckets and spades to small canoes and kite surfing gear. Our beach hut neighbours are often on the beach or have even disappeared over the horizon.
At our hut we swim, sun bathe, read, have picnics, friends for coffee and I write. In long hand by choice; the beach hut is free of electronic gadgets. Is there any difference writing here than at home or in cafes? The sound of waves is a soothing background and the writer cannot be distracted by dishes to wash, meals to cook, telephones or doorbells. If sunny it is so pleasant one is liable to fall asleep. If the wind has whipped up you can shelter inside and enjoy watching the waves. In torrential rain I can look out smugly at holiday makers and walkers scurrying for shelter … and carry on writing.
Visit my website for words and pictures about beach hut life.
http://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/chapter...
A dream; the hut would probably fall to pieces if we tried to haul it onto a truck and then we would have to buy petrol. Perhaps it is best to stay put and continue paying rent to the local council for our tiny square of concrete.
Having a beach hut is almost a way of life, though most huts are small and you are not allowed to sleep in them or even stay after sunset. As there is no room to sleep, no windows and Calor gas the only power, life is primitive. Water is fetched from a standpipe, but it is all part of the fun. If you strolled along the promenade you would assume that most people enjoy sitting outside their huts in the sun, with the whistling kettle telling them it’s time for tea. But more is happening; the beach hut is basically a store cupboard for everything from swimming costumes and buckets and spades to small canoes and kite surfing gear. Our beach hut neighbours are often on the beach or have even disappeared over the horizon.
At our hut we swim, sun bathe, read, have picnics, friends for coffee and I write. In long hand by choice; the beach hut is free of electronic gadgets. Is there any difference writing here than at home or in cafes? The sound of waves is a soothing background and the writer cannot be distracted by dishes to wash, meals to cook, telephones or doorbells. If sunny it is so pleasant one is liable to fall asleep. If the wind has whipped up you can shelter inside and enjoy watching the waves. In torrential rain I can look out smugly at holiday makers and walkers scurrying for shelter … and carry on writing.
Visit my website for words and pictures about beach hut life.
http://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/chapter...
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Sandscript
I like to write first drafts with pen and paper; at home, in busy cafes, in the garden, at our beach hut... even sitting in a sea front car park waiting for the rain to stop I get my note book out. We
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