£90,000 for a Beach hut, you must be mad.

Sadly folks this is what the North Norfolk coast line has aspired to, its not a new thing, but everytime I go down there I like to remind myself that there are people for whom money really doesn’t mean a fucking thing. They toss it away as they would a condom in a brothel, without thought for where it might end or whom it may affect in the future, the rotten semen of capitalism, breeding under some sort of viagric middle aged leathery skinned 40 and 50 somethings, ripping the heart out of the Norfolk countryside, and taking it back capillary by capillary back to London. To think that to own a double doored garden shed, on the coast and painted yellow or blue, a shed with a wide door to allow a lawn mower to be stowed away easily now full of all the shit that as British we have to take to the beach marks the panacea of all a hard working banker strives for. The £90000 shed will have tarnished rubber rings and unicorns punctured in the corner, tent pegs and a ripped Child’s shelter, spades, foil tray barbecues, plastic bags and ripped fold out chairs. A place to deposit the actualities of holiday memories, filtered out and left in a glorified box room, miles away from home, battered by the sandy wind, and pissed upon by the North Sea storms.

Needless to say if I have £90000 to spare I’ll put it in my pyjamas (if you know, you know).

But an overpriced shed on a very busy beach with an overpriced car park is the British Dream, throw on the Jules wellies (don’t they’re far too tight and not fit for purpose) one of those warm overcoat things and hang out at the Wells next the Sea coffee shop in the car park and chat to others twats like yourself. I went down to the beach at an ungodly hour to capture some drone footage of the sun rise and met a varied bunch of folk, most keen to avoid the crowds of  sun bleached blonde beach hut owners, who smatter the dunes and pine forests with dog bags and piss stains.

I like Wells beach at Early o clock, when the real people are in the majority, the photographers, the local dog walkers, the paddle boarders (well… the Jury’s still out), the morning swimmers. And I’d be probably castigated to speculate but I’d say we were all out there to the same purpose; to avoid the idiots.