On a trip of remembrance to Lyme Regis, Dorset, I was struck by how physically I was unable to enjoy a walk around the stone harbour.
As a child, my family, my Mum, Dad and brother spent 2 weeks a year of our summers here. Most mornings, my brother and I were allowed to go down to the beach and harbour wall until we saw the sign to go "back home for breakfast- a towel hung out of the holiday let window was our sign. We'd clamber the harbour wall, the rocks at the end of the wall, and charge around the beach unspervised. Wouldn't dream of that these days. Back in the good old days, we'd scale the barbour walls with ease, we'd wade in the muddy base of the harbour when the sea had gone right out beyond the walls. Leaving the boats standing on their stilts, we'd walk under the boats, finding shells and treasures and just for the hell of it because we could.
At the back right corner of the harbour wall are rocks to warn boats of the dangers under the sea. They're there to reinforce the famous sloping end of the wall. Made famous by Meryl Streep i beleive in the 1981 film The French Lieutenant's Woman.
As a family, we would go to the end of the wall and spend hours crabbing, swimming, sunbathing, and clambering over these rocks.
As my immediate close family extends l've spent hours, years on the sandy beach, swimming safely, crabbing at the end of the rocks on the left side of the harbour wall, jumping into the sea from that part of the harbour.
My late Dad wanted to buy a house along the prom to retire, but sadly couldn't afford to. I've taken my daughters up into the high gardens to watch the eclipse in 1999 l think it was. We've been fossil hunting on Black Venn clay beach, which is the far end of the prom.
Three years ago today, some of us came here to reminisce about my Mum, as she had passed in the morning.
We came because it's a safe beach for my then-little grandsons. There isnt alot l dont know about Lyme Regis, I have so many stories and memories of this place.
On reflection today, 3 years to the date my Mum passed, I was fortunate to be brought here with my son, to throw roses into the sea at the point where 2 years ago we all scattered Mum's ashes and said our goodbyes.
She'd requested being taken, scattered out to sea. It was either West Bay or Lyme Regis as she and Dad had retired to Bridport some 30 years ago.
Funny story on that Thursday 2023 when we were here with the crazy boys my daughters were saying how they thought Mum/ Other Nanny would prefer to be scattered here at Lyme and as l went to kneel down next to them to join the conversation a sea gull flew passed low and slapped me onthe head- we laughed and took that at as a sign that Mum had decided she wanted to be here. !!
So that's what we did on 8th June 2024, most of us came to Lyme to the little hidden beach behind the harbour aquarium and harbour masters' buildings and scattered her with roses. Agreeing every year that we'd come back and throw roses. Hence, today's visit.
There were no tears this time, just a quiet walk and cuddle, a ceremonial throwing of 3 white roses down to the sea and watching them float gently away.
We weren't able to go onto the beach as the tide was in, so we just walked along the cobbled wall to the end, looked out to the rocks on the point, watched a commorant on the very end and saw the variety of safety plaques, then walked slightly back to the "right point" to release the roses and remember.
However, on reflection and lm now 65 l was very aware that I felt uneasy walking on this lower wall, on the wet, uneven flint stone cobbles. I was now aware how narrow the path is and how it's sloping more- l dont like edges, especially those with no guard rails.
I was aware how the high wall clad today in scaffolding was sloping even more; I was aware that, sadly, a man had only a month ago lost his life as he'd fallen off the wall and been swept into the sea below.
I was aware how the stone steps that we once clambered up and down were wider and more gapped than they used to be, which is impossible as they are embedded into the wall, have been for centuries.!!
I was aware and noticed an array of safety notices saying not to climb up these steps.
I was aware of how I was unable to walk down to the tiny beach on the cobbles. We, my 41-year-old son and l strolled along the prom to the far end of Lyme to look over Black Venn, an area of black/ grey clay slate cliffs known for fossils and lately land slides.
We passed the fairly new statue of Mary Anning, famous for finding fossils many decades ago. We walked back to the Cobb area passed all the tacky souveneir shops, selling cheap plastic tatt, buckets spades and sun hats, passed the very ancient houses Dad wanted to live in but today 2026 l was aware and indeed noticed the date plates giving brief history of the houses, l noticed and was aware of the ornate fascades, fancy drainpipes and a water trough dated 1762 why after all the decaces of visits lad l not niticed these?
I am now aware of the new businesses with their advertising and hoardings that we weren't there in the 1970's.
I am now aware that neither my son nor I would be able to scale the stone stairs up to the gardens. And I became aware today that I was unable to walk down to the water's edge for the obligatory sea paddle on Monmouth beach. I had to hold onto my son just to walk down to perch on a log that had been swept up to the beach. Admittedly l had the wrong footwear on, having opted for sensible leather ankle boots instead of trainers, as when we left, it had been raining heavily. Sensible boots were not helpful on the stone harbour wall, nor on a flint-stoned beach. Even when I made it to the washed-up log, took off my boots and socks l became aware that I was no longer able to reach the water's edge, despite staring at it trying to fathom an alternative route down.
What I am now clearly aware of is my age and flexibility, or lack of it. But I do not think of myself as an old bid in the latter years of my life. I'm 65, my son is 41, and neither of us can do some stuff now.!! He even advised not attempting to reach the waters edge as it was hard going.
On reflection, in the 1970's l was a young, nimble, able-bodied person. Now I am aware I am no longer nimble. I am that person, but that body which has experienced a lot since those days is now in resting mode.
Maybe on reflection its time to admit defeat and just reflect on memories and smile.
