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Why a small boy loved the beach

I so enjoyed the beach as a child

The beach is one of my favourite places to be – it’s the sounds of a breaking wave followed by pebbles tumbling back under the next one, or the distant roar of bigger surf carrying over a long flat sandy beach; it’s the sun on my face and the soft, warm sand between my toes; it’s the distant intensity of the horizon that stretches each way into my peripheral vision; it’s the way the sounds of children playing and people talking seem close, yet distant at the same time, but somehow they don’t intrude as the sun shines red through my closed eyelids.

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What is Freedom, really?

Concorde – the first and only supersonic passenger jet

I grew up in the 60’s – not the swinging 60’s you understand, the swing hadn’t swung as far as my town. The 60’s for me were a time of wonder and possibility. There was talk of a passenger jet that would travel twice the speed of sound and the possibility that men would actually travel to the moon. It seemed like anything could happen. Who would have guessed then that the supersonic jet would be retired without replacement and that manned space flight would find a sterile rock and go no further? For me one the most exciting possibilities of the 60’s was in the exploits of Jacques Cousteau. Even in black and white his TV programme seemed vivid, colourful and full of possibilities. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to explore the Undersea World that he had found? I never believed I would get the chance, but get it I did. Just before our first child came along my wife and I splashed out

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