Fair

This summer, for the first time since I started university, I am not spending my entire holidays away from the seaside village I call home during term time but instead I decided to go back there for a good chunk of the summer. This experience has been bizarre. The town I am used to - a place buzzing with the excitement of students - has been replaced by its twin, attempting to charm the sluggishly slow-moving tourists strolling along the streets with all kinds of attractions: Hop-on/Hop-off tour buses that seem vaguely out of place, cafés and pubs with seating areas outside where yet another afternoon can be spend absorbing the rays of sunlight and - as if the beautiful beaches, historical buildings and cute streets were not enough - a town fair with proper rides, occupying two of the three main streets.

Of course my flatmate for the summer and I had to go - the novelty and excitement just got a hold of us: We screamed our heads off while on the rides, ate our body weights in fair food and - just like the tourists - we strolled along the streets enjoying the general atmosphere.