The Island of Dreams

My Dear Princess,

Life in Bridlington is surreal. It's not like coming home... I never lived here (I grew up in Scarborough which is 30 minutes up the coast). It's a little like going back in time to a seaside town in the 1950s.

They still have all the old "milk bars" and coffee shops all along the sea front. They have heaps of fish and chip shops. What they don't have is PEOPLE.

Despite the stunning summery weather, the crowds are thin and I'm unsure how all the coffee bars and ice cream shops stay open. They're competing for a thin crowd of budget tourists and locals. There are faded posters in shop windows and neon signs that stopped working a long time ago.

I went out last night to get proper milk for my in-room coffee. Bridlington at 9pm on a Tuesday night is eerie. Not a soul about. It's like the zombie apocalypse, if all the zombies stayed in for the evening.

It had been a full day. I took ice blocks for my dad. I reckon if I like them when I have gastro then he might enjoy them. And he LOVED them! He had two and if they dripped all over him he didn't seem to care.

I also made him a dad playlist on spotify. I did it in an old ice cream parlor where I ordered this "Mr. Moo's Mandarin Orange Sundae". I didn't really want it. I just wanted to order it. "Can I have the Mr. Moo's Mandarin Orange Sundae?" I asked trying not to giggle.

I'm such a child.

The playlist contained dad classics such as "On The Rebound" by Floyd Cramer and "Island of Dreams" by The Springfields.

Dad seemed to perk right up. Maybe it was the sugar from his ice block or maybe it was Duane Eddy and his twangy guitar but he seemed more engaged and present than yesterday.

He still isn't very strong and can only speak in a breathy whisper. I don't catch most of it. But he enjoyed today I think. Closing his eyes and listening to music and slipping away to his memories of Bridlington as it was, with buzzing crowds of holiday-makers, bright neon lights, The Everly Brothers coming out of transistor radios, and he and my mum hand in hand, courting over ice cream.

Again I would wander where memories enfold me,
There on the beautiful island of dreams,
Far, far away on the island of dreams.

S.