I HAVE a love affair with beach huts.

I don’t know if the appeal is the uncomplicated pleasure of lolling by the English seaside or their 1950s kiss-me-quick kitsch, but I love them. Even in the rain – which is quite handy given Britain’s unglamorous, cold shores.

It is childhood nostalgia you see. When my brother and I weren’t being driven to Devon, Brussels or the Dordogne in my Dad’s Cortina listening to Boney M choking to death on his cigarette fumes (it was the 70s after all, which was apparently a Get out of Parenting Free pass) we would spend all summer living in a shack on Mudeford Spit.

My Dad would commute to work on the ferry, leaving us with our old boat, Mr Gramps on which to explore the watery world. We loved our Swallows and Amazons summers and the memories of six-weeks of seaside freedom that have never left me.

My Mum has a beach hut and despite having my own set of keys, it somehow doesn’t seem enough.

The thing is hers looks like something out of Coast magazine – complete with its Marazzi kitchen and inventory. I daren’t use a bucket and spade, let alone a spoon or God-forbid her Italian fired salad bowls.

I want my own shack on the sand along with Keith Richards and Tracey Emin.

On Friday, my Fairy Godmother announced (more or less) that she would be barbecuing in her former naval hut at Calshot to watch the Red Arrows and the fireworks at Cowes - the final hurrah of Cowes Week.

Anyway, I was feeling so fed up with all that needs to be done in my house, the grey sky and my diminishing tan that I grabbed the Teen and the Dog and drove to the windy, pebble shore.

Yes the greedy Dog was a nightmare, yes the skies turned black, yes I was forced to warm my feet in the electric hand dryer and yes, the rain lashed so hard against the wooden walls that at one point I thought it would collapse but we stayed cosy and warm in Pam’s candlelit cabin with the ozone blowing on our faces.

Admittedly the wine helped.

Every cloud.

Readers who submit articles must agree to our terms of use. The content is the sole responsibility of the contributor and is unmoderated. But we will react if anything that breaks the rules comes to our attention. If you wish to complain about this article, contact us here

Readers who submit articles must agree to our terms of use. The content is the sole responsibility of the contributor and is unmoderated. But we will react if anything that breaks the rules comes to our attention. If you wish to complain about this article, contact us here