Whitley Bay

As we sit on warm sand, the smell of seaweed lingers through the air. The sound of seagulls echoes through the breeze while the sound of traffic echoes through the trees and in the background the sound of screaming kids on roller coasters breaks the silence of the day. Did we ever wonder or think these days would ever end?
As we slowly open our eyes today, the smell of seaweed still lingers, the sound of seagulls echoes through the air and the sound of traffic can still be heard through the trees but the sound of screaming kids can't be heard except on school days as this is what the Spanish City has now become. Tumbleweeds go along the promenade, signaling the death of Whitley Bay and so this is what has become of Whitley Bay. Nothing more then a ghost town by the sea, how very sad indeed.