The Final Chapter

Saying goodbye to my beach house retreat

So many happy times in the house on the beach

Storm? What storm?? Was anyone else ready to batten down the hatches due to an amber warning? I’ve decided from now on I’m not going to listen to the weather report. It’s a mild 12 degrees here and a tad windy. What I would describe as a rather mild day for the 1st November. Apologies if you are having to brace yourself in ‘Storm Ciaran’ this morning, here in Cardiff it’s a pretty normal autumn day.

I’m just back from a brisk walk along the coast with the hounds, golly gosh I needed it, my rage was off the scale this morning.  At 6am I came down to a lake of dog piss AGAIN (any top tips on how to prevent a 2 year old ridgeback bitch from urinating in the house would be most appreciated.) Tomorrow morning she will be well and truly locked out in the garden whilst I get ready.  Add to that drama, my eldest male ridgeback tore through a big box of quality street, wrappers and all.  And yes I know chocolate is poisonous to dogs. I’m hoping he will be sick and save me a huge vet bill. And breathe!

At least after time on the beach my midlife rage has moved on, I’m hopeful that a new month brings in a new chapter, even though there’s a bittersweet feeling of anticipation in the air.  My friend’s beloved beach house, which is nestled along the West Wales coastline, has been sold. This Friday I’ll be heading West to spend my last week there.  The upcoming visit marks the last opportunity to embrace its timeless wonder, and the prospect is laden with a whole bag of emotions.

With its seven charming bedrooms, rustic Victorian interiors and panoramic sea views, this coastal abode has served as a sanctuary, a backdrop of countless memories I shall cherish forever.  It’s where I launched my first ever Ease Retreat, back in January 2018.  It’s a place where the golden bay meets the hillside, where the echo of roaring fires mingles with the soothing rhythm of crashing waves.  Bring on the storms I say as there is no better place I’d rather be. When I’m there alone with the ridgebacks, I feel like the house hugs me hard, standing tall above the few neighbouring beach cottages, I feel ever so loved by its dominant embrace.

This beach house has been a pocket of heaven to me, it has welcomed laughter, tears and the shared stories of those who’ve crossed its threshold.  As I prepare to journey there one last time, I’m determined to seize every moment with an open heart and a mind wide open to the beauty that resides in its rustic coastal charm.

I know I’ll leave with a heavy heart.  There is no house like it.  I don’t even want to find a better beach house.  It’s a similar feeling whenever a dog I’ve owned has died, it’s irreplaceable. I wonder where I’ll runaway to in future?  Where will I feel safe when I need to escape the city lights and the maddening crowds? I guess this is part of the adventure of life.  Leaning into the unknown. Maybe one day I’ll find another ‘happy place’, maybe I won’t, but more than anything, I feel privileged to have spent many winters in the house on the beach.

Until the next time

Take care & stay safe xxx