Nose down Harbour Street in beating sun,
See quirky shops and cafes one-by-one
Link arms against the onslaught of the chains,
Who every year set out to stake their claims.
Bars on every corner so it seems,
Though elsewhere publicans give up their dreams.
The trippers trip in traffic as if blind,
I too remember how it was first time,
To smell the chips and touch the oyster shells.
I can’t be mad – this magic overwhelms.
And who can blame them all for liking here?
I came one day and stayed for twenty years.
It’s fresh, it’s free, it’s fun, the people smile,
Look healthy, happy, hippy, seaside-style.
Image by Nigel Wallace