A Teignmouth evening

I’ve been coming to Teignmouth and Shaldon in South Devon since I was a child.

Teignmouth - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

We would have two weeks holiday in August in self-catering accommodation next to the River Teign. It was a wildlife bonanza for me. I spent my time in rock pools or catching Sandeels in the River or watching Oystercatchers through oversized binoculars.

All the other children seemed like Greek gods to me. With sun-bleached blonde hair and tanned bodies, in swimwear, in and out of boats they lived a strange exotic life.

Decades later, I got a job nearby and had three children. I would take them to Teignmouth and Shaldon and watch them as my three children, with sun-bleached blonde hair and tanned bodies in swimwear, played in the water.

I thought, “They’re having the childhood I always wanted but only glimpsed for two weeks a year”.

Here’s a man living his best life, paddle-boarding with a dog to his boat.

Teignmouth - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

And here’s the tender to the ferry between Teignmouth and Shaldon.

Teignmouth - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

Glorious.

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