Last week, my wife and I paid a visit to the sleepy, seaside town of Eastbourne on the southern coast of England. We were there to meet up with an old friend of hers she hadn't seen in 40 plus years and as it turned out we had a very nice time. While the two of them were sitting in his wonderful, two-tone camper van, I sat outside watching the world go by and shot a number of images of the holiday makers standing in line for ice cream, tea and coffee at a seafront outlet.
It had been years since I engaged in any kind of social documentary photography, and I really enjoyed myself, making 'art' if you will, and taking in the sea breeze which I found very relaxing, and very calming. Eastbourne once had a reputation for attracting the retired, the very elderly and those getting away from the hustle of city life. I'm not too sure that is true in today's world, but there did seem to be a lot of people on various mobile travelling devices.
Towards the end of the day, I walked back through the town and met up with everybody at the railway station, and all seemed calm as I found a quiet seat to sip my double espresso, when from nowhere a young boy started 'screaming' in the company of what I assumed where his grandparents. And he didn't stop, ever. I had to leave the area as my head was exploding, and I deeded to calm down.
In the end, the family boarded a train, and peace returned to the station. I had another coffee and reflected on the wonderful day I had, in the company of strangers. I had no signs of depression, and for the entire time we were away from home, simply indulged in the change of scenery.