What’s so special about the seaside?
Not too long ago someone asked me “do you feel trapped?” I had been talking about my love for the seaside.
He reasoned that because the vast openness of the seashore signified infinite possibilities, my longing to be by the sea must then mean that I pined for freedom, albeit unconsciously. Why else would it induce such a reaction in me?
Perhaps at that point in time I was feeling a little at loss. And maybe I did secretly long to be by the sea more than other times in my life. But I am quite certain in the fact that I have always held a desire to be by the sea. Surely this cannot mean that I have felt trapped all my life? If so that would be a very sad life indeed.
I closed my eyes and imagined myself at the seaside and it was almost as if the sun was shining on me right there. There was just a sudden rush of warmth and joy that I couldn’t express. And I said so.
The first time I ever visited the seaside was on a trip that took me to Qingdao and Dalian. We went to visit some distant relatives who I had never met, haven’t seen since and probably never will again. I don’t recall the precise moment when I first laid eyes on the sea but I’m sure it wasn’t spectacular. I was only about four so I suppose even if I did view it with wonder I would have long since forgotten.
But I do remember having a fantastic time.
It was the first time I had ever taken a train journey, and it lasted for days because it was so far away and the trains were a lot slower in those days. We went to pick cockles at dawn just as the sun was rising. I’m sure that if I did it again I would have taken it under some romantic notion but back then I didn’t even know you could eat cockles because it was on that trip that I had seafood for the very first time. I just thought it was amazing that these shells were alive and some had all sorts of little crabs and shrimps in them that would run away when you pointed at them. And crabs! They walked sideways! And I remember picking up huge strings of seaweed and insisting that we should take them home as I had eaten them before and it just seemed like the done thing. And you know I did all that building sand castles naked and getting washed away by the sea and vowing never to return business that kids do too.
I have since been on many trips to many different seasides. Some were memorable and others were less so. But I never pondered why it was that I found the seaside to be so incredibly exciting, just passively accepted it as fact. And why should I have done? What difference would it have made?
And yet since I was asked this question, I got curious. I sat on the beach on my most recently trip and tried to untie this knot.
Looking out to sea I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and tried to experience it as I had imagined it. Either my senses had deserted me or they were deluding me before because none of the elements of my imagination existed. I was just by the sea, tired and almost feeling a little agitated. Opening my eyes I looked out again. No, it was more irritation. I soon gave up on that exercise and went to sleep. A few days later though when I looked out to sea that old familiar feeling had returned. I tried to pin point it and arrived at nothing.
I wondered, was it the nature of the sea?
Two days later when it started to rain I was by the sea again. Apparently it, that is the nature of the sea, had little effect on the way I felt about it. Of course if I was venturing into the sea and not merely standing by its side maybe I would have felt differently.
Anyway, after days of pondering I still had nothing, except what I began with: “What difference would it have made?” Maybe it’s just in my blood.
