The only thing that matters right now..... on the biobead spill at Camber Sands

 

So much has happened, but only one thing matters...

18/11/2025

2 Comments

 

My initials on the wall at the fish and fruit market, Funchal

So much has happened in the last few weeks. 

So much, that at times I felt completely overwhelmed and felt that I had taken on too much. Amongst other things I was coping with.....

• Redecorating at home; paint colours to choose. Thousands of match pots and bits of painted coloured paper around the house. OK, not thousands, but more than I care to admit to....
• a solo show  to be hung in a beautiful community cafe in Hextable.
• a health issue that has taken some time to come to terms with.

To distract myself from all of the above I booked a November trip to Madeira for a walking week in a group of 'like minded' individuals. Walking is the activity that calms me above all others.

Little did I know that the group would be just me and two other people; another group of friends having cancelled at the last minute due to a leg injury.
Little did I also know that one of the other two was afraid of heights and edges, and the other had a fear of walking down hill. 

Sunny street, Funchal. Madeira.

So we muddled through, on levadas (ancient water irrigation channels), cliff tops and mountain paths, each hike being a challenge for one or other of my two companions, until the poor local guide almost lost the will to live trying to keep everyone happy.

I was just grateful to be walking, in shorts and t-shirt, and away from the worries of domesticity. I changed my walking pace from pretty speedy to VERY SLOW, and all was well. I also ate a lot of cakes. Pastel de nata and Queijada da Madeira to be precise. Delicious.

Unfortunately, while I was away a disaster was unfolding back at home in Camber Sands.

Tiled street, Funchal

A disaster that beats all other environmental disaters on the local coast hands down; the release of millions of plastic biobeads into the sea from Southerm Water's Eastbourne Wastewater Treatment Works.

A big enough problem to reach the national news. A beautiful sandy beach covered with millions of black plastic beads. An environmental disaster on a grand scale. 

I felt distressed not to be able to turn up with the other many local people to help try and clear the beach of the beads. I have done beach surveys counting these biobeads in the past with Strandliners, and know how devastated their leaders will be. 

I followed the news each day, only to learn that Southern Water had been found culpable. I wanted to be there. 

Southern Water staff sieving the sand some days after the spillage.

I finally made it to the beach on Sunday; nearly two weeks after the spill. Many sacksful of pellets had already been removed from the beach by volunteers. 

Staff from Southern Water were sieving the sand in a slow and laborious way. It was a depressing sight. 

I made a video of the process for Instagram. 

watch the process of collecting biobeads on the beach here

The video shows the sieving of sand, and the collection of biobeads so much better than any still photo can. But because I know not everyone can access the video, here are some photos anyway.

a wheelbarrow full of biobeads at camber Sands

The early clean up operation undertaken by Strandliners and  @nurdlecoasts is now on hold until the next spring tide. This is a particularly high tide around the time of a full moon, which will carry the beads further up onto the beach, and hopefully allow another collection of washed up beads using a microplastic vacuum which can only work on soft sand.

biobead debris from the clean up at Camber Sands

The whole event makes me very sad. 

A feeling of 'solastagia'.

Solastalgia is the distress caused by negative environmental changes to a person's home environment. It is being felt by so many local people.

I created the book 'Shore' last year about man's behaviour in relation to the sea shore. A book created in frustration at the way we treat our beautiful coastline.
​
On one of the pages I wrote;

'What if it rained so hard that the water
companies opened their flood gates and poured
millions of plastic beads and gallons of sewage
onto the brightly decorated shore, as we danced
like fools in the surf.'

Image from the book 'Shore', showing biobeads and microplastics

It shouldn't have happened. 

There are no words.

the best laid plans........ on journeys and destinations

Chamonix, France

​Son gave me a wonderful Christmas present.

A night in a mountain hut in Chamonix and a hike on top of the world. I couldn't have been happier. Probably the best gift I have ever received.

Son currently lives in Chamonix, for he is a digital nomad. So he can live where he pleases. I wont say 'he is lucky', for he made it happen. All the best realised dreams come from personal endeavor. That much I do know.

The chosen hike involved a significant climb. I was worried that I wasn't fit enough. Son is not massively tolerant of slow people. He runs up and down mountains every week. 

So for the last five months I have been doggedly trying to get 'mountain ready'. Following an exercise programme that seemed to involve one step back for every two steps forward I experienced different body pains after different exercises. Trying to balance progress with what my body would tolerate. Hiking up hills with a heavy rucksack on my back. Leg, arm and core exercises in the living room. I made progress, but altitude was something that I couldn't prepare for.

​I did my best.

 
And so I arrived in Chamonix.

I nearly missed my flight due to unplanned underground delays and a 'body' on the line. My hiking poles didn't make the journey in their special tube. Hiking poles are too 'dangerous' to take on board as carry on.  It was not an easy start.

But I arrived happily in the mountains. And the sun was shining.

Delicate clouds were drifting over Mont Blanc and the Glacier Bossons. 

Mont Blanc and the Glacier Bossons

​I had a day to myself before the big adventure.

Time to think about all the kit that I had gathered in my preparations for the hike and our night up the mountain. Sharing a room with strangers was the part that I was least looking forward to. I practised using my foam earplugs.....

For the first time in my life I had gathered together almost all of the recommended essential items for hiking in the mountains, plus a couple of luxury items that would permit me a shower if I felt the need. 

​

​I didn't have a knife..... nor was I sure what I would use one for. Son had a knife. I had a bandage and some plasters......

We were fully equipped.

Time for a hike and a wander around town. Chamonix is a trail running mecca. While I was there it was a weekend of marathons; 90km, 42km and 23km, all involving many thousands of metres ascent and descent. The Mont-Blanc Marathon. Marathons for tough people. 

The shops are full of trail running gear. To me it was a whole new world. ​Most appealing are the shoes..... joyfully coloured and light. No matter that they will be splattered with mud as soon as they go into action.

And then there are running vests with double water bottles that squish down as you drink, superlight clothes and anoraks, and superlight folding hiking poles. It is a world of specialised gear. One that I do not belong to. For I am just a humble hiker, with a normal, non collapsing water bottle and normal hiking poles.

I soaked it all up. And treated myself to a superlight sun hat. 

trail running footwear

mountain marathon runners' kit

I practised hiking with my kit. 

My hiking poles were delivered by courier by mid morning on day two so I was ready for action. I hiked on the opposite side of the valley, looking across to the location for our big hike the following day.

The remains of the winter snow were rain stained and dirty looking. Shorts and t-shirts were the order of the day. It was hot. Ice-creams were selling like hot cakes in town.

​The view across the valley was spectacular. 

​I wondered why I was carrying so many clothes. I probably wasn't going to need my warm emergency layers. 

​

Chamonix from Petit Balcon Sud.

 
And then the big day came.

After watching and cheering folk arriving back to the finish line of the 90km marathon our time had come.

Except that it didn't. One hour before we were due to ascend the mountain using the Aiguille du Midi chairlift, the lifts closed down for the day. High winds and a possible storm had arrived.

The top of the mountains disappeared into the clouds, and we had to cancel our outing. We looked up to see the Refuge du Plan de l'aiguille sitting tormentingly out of reach. So near and yet so far. 

​All that preparation and no way to get up the mountain to the starting point for our 'adventure'.

Refuge du plan de l'aiguille just to the left of the chairlift pylons.

And yet, strangely, it didn't matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. I really didn't mind.

Most of my enjoyment had already been had; in the anticipation and preparation.

I was in the mountains with my son. We didn't have to sleep with snoring strangers, and we were able to share a delicious cheese fondue with his friends.

And the following morning we approached the mountain by a different route, still cloud shrouded. We visited the Mer du Glace glacier with its ice caves carved out of the sea of ice.

protective sheeting against sunlight on the Mer du Glace glacier.

Having visited the ice caves we climbed up the stony path on the hike that we should have done, in the opposite direction, until we were immersed in cloud. It was grey, damp, steep and rocky. Around us were wild azaleas, pink and bright.

I never got to see the spectacular views across the valley, or to see Mont Blanc from the Aiguille du Midi. 

But that is the nature of adventures. We cannot outsmart the weather, and not all goals are achievable. I tried to imagine the disappointment of going to Everest and not making the summit. Statistics tell me that of those who travelled to Everest Base camp in recent years about two thirds reached the summit. Which means that one in three people do not achieve their goal. I was surprised to discover that women are more likely to succeed. 

Between 2006 and 2019 0.5% of women and 1.1% of men died during the Everest summit ascent/descent. It is a risky business.

Obviously my adventure was seriously tame in the grand scheme of things. The weather won on this occasion, but I am still alive, and the mountain will still be there on my next visit. I can try again.

Meanwhile son will continue to set himself big challenges, and I will continue to be happy to set myself smaller ones.

Having goals and setting oneself challenges is one of the keys to happiness. as discussed in the very last interview on BBC Sounds by Michael Moseley with psychologist Paul Bloom on 'How to Live a Good Life'. I absolutely agree; I have had so much pleasure preparing for this mini adventure. It is the journey, not the destination that matters.

And now I am busy thinking about what my next challenge will be, and looking forward to a week's hiking in Spain later this year. 

We're going on a bear hunt......hiking in the rocky mountains

Moraine Lake, Canada

My other half  (OH) and I have been on vacation.

Learning how to speak Canadian. It is important as our children now live in Canada, so we need to be able to communicate with them.

So we took a vacation ( not a holiday)

and used lots of washrooms ( not toilet/loo), and definitely not restroom or bathroom ( that is for folks south of the border).

We went on a hiking trip in the Rockies with a bunch of really lovely people from around the world.

We used the parking lots when they were not full, ( which they mostly were, for this year the national parks are all free thanks to the 150th anniversary of confederation),

We walked miles, mostly uphill and were rewarded with the most spectacular views. The going was challenging, but 'manageable' according to our lovely 23 year old guide.

We climbed to the top of the mountains and sang songs from musicals at the top (from The Sound of Music, of course).

Lake Louise from the upper trail

my daily activity summaries looked like this....

I managed.

But I had to leave my camera behind, as carrying 2 litres of water, my lunch and an anorak took up all my energy.

Most people use phones as cameras these days anyway.

selfie time at Lake Louise

OH and I had joined a group trip due to the presence of grizzly bears in the rockies. Many trails require a minimum of four people to hike together for safety.

Even with worried bear we were only a party of three. Safety in numbers.

We learned more new words;

a toque ( pronounced took) ( beanie hat) was essential on the alpine passes, and we spent many loonies ( one dollar coins)  and toonies ( two dollar coins) on coffee at Timmies ( Tim Hortons), or ideally somewhere with better coffee and a nicer colour scheme than khaki brown. 

worried bear at icefield parkway..... his right leg took a turn for the worse

I was told to leave my bear bell behind. Apparently they don't work.

I googled to check and was interested to see what questions others ask about bears....

Anyway, it seems they don't work, and making a noise and singing is much better.

Of course everyone really wanted to see a bear.

It's bear season.

Signs warn of the dangers everywhere in the mountains.

We knew they were around, for we saw the evidence.

bear scat ( poo)

As we hiked higher and higher at Lake Louise, the group split near the top of a very steep path.

OH decided to descend with a companion hiker.

I decided to keep going to the top where, surprisingly, a cup of tea awaited in a very high altitude tea house.. 

We passed a bear with a bell.

bear in the mountains

At the top we saw a butterfly and a chipmunk, but no bears.

The view was worth the effort, and the wild flowers were yellow and plentiful.

On the way down we met a marmot siting on a rock. He was much more worried than we were.

marmot

We met up with OH and his companion at the bottom.

"Did you see my hat" he asked.

"No" I replied.

It seems that he left it on a bench half way up the mountain. He and his companion were taking a banana break.

Why did he leave his hat on a bench?

BECAUSE A GRIZZLY BEAR HAD BEEN FOLLOWING THEM DOWN THE PATH, AND THEY APPARENTLY DIDN'T WANT TO HANG AROUND.

In the excitement he left his hat behind.

Did they take a photo of the bear? 

No. 

They were 'too busy packing away the banana'.

rocky mountains

up above the trees at lake Louise

Peyto Lake ( by OH..... it seems he can take photos too)

wild lupins in an alpine meadow

Personally, I have never been so glad that I kept on up the mountain. 

I prefer dogs.

dog

A place called Concrete, and other delights on the Cascades Loop Scenic Highway

wild flowers, Okanogan national forest

I was happily settled in Vancouver for a week, being a cook and bottle-washer to my eldest child and her family. when from nowhere, my other half turned up and whisked me away, across the border to Washington state.

No more washing or cooking. No more lazy Vancouver summer days.

No. For we must go to America;

 'for a holiday'.

Off we set in our 'brand new, and spontaneously upgraded jeep' with its immediately broken heating system and not fixable except possibly by tampering with the electrical fuses in 'engineer mode', something we were not quite brave enough to do.

We headed south, with the temperature inside the vehicle permanently fixed at 24 degrees, or 'HOT', depending on the mood of the day, and whether it was snowing or sunny outside.

We were on our way to the Cascade Loop Scenic Highway, north-east of Seattle; for hiking and outdoor recreation.

I was excited, for I was to get the chance to visit a place called Concrete.

But first, there was Sedro-Woolley, where men make sculptures with chain saws.

Sedro-Woolley

And where you can get a dam fine cherry pie. reminiscent of my favourite TV series of all time (Twin Peaks).

cherry pie

Land of real ales in big fridges.

real ales

We got going, before a cherry pie and beer fest set in.


Next stop Concrete.

I was duly excited.

Concrete

Where we tucked into the deluxe combo at the road side diner.

deluxe combo

 inside Concrete's diner

And onwards to Marblemount for dinner at the Buffalo Run, where mild hysteria set in, thanks to a delightful, but linguistically challenged,  Ukranian waitress.

the conversation went a bit like this........

Ukrainian waitress to another customer

how would you like your steak?

well done please

we have only medium, medium rare or rare.......

you cannot have well done.

And to us....

please look at our specials board.....

me........ thank you; I would like the special salmon

we have no salmon

me............then the special trout please

we have no trout.

I had the non special 'fish of the day'

OH had buffalo steak.

then;


 'do you have the desert menu'?

NO

we have apple pie, cherry pie, berry pie and north american fruit pie or fruit cobbler

'I would like the  fruit pie'........

could you repeat please?

I repeat, and ask

'does it come with custard?'

where I am from? 

and so it went on.




We retired to bed, switched off the lights

and recharged our batteries, before our big hike over the mountain pass the next day.

Except the road to the hike was closed, and it was raining, and there were bears......

So we were wet and tired before we got to the path over the pass that was shrouded in cloud.

But we did have a very long walk up a hill, and saw lots of lush vegetation and some snow.

And when we got back to town we resisted the milkshakes in favour of tea and beer,

A day or so later the sun came out and we climbed more hills.


We didn't need to take the short cut. The meadow and alpine flowers were just what we needed.

the walking log

Icicle gorge

We ended in Leavenworth; a little bit of Bavarian eccentricity in the united states of america.

Where all the houses are disguised as alpine chalets, and men wear lederhosen.

Leavenworth architecture

normal attire in Leavenworth

I declined the nutcracker museum.

The shops are full of things that other people must buy.

Add caption

Christmas is BIG

Santa needs new lights

singing reindeer;  many thousand dollars....

and the national accordion festival just happened to be there while we were.

 I wondered why I had wanted one so badly as a child.

accordions

After a traditional Bavarian dinner to the accompaniment of some very cheerful accordion playing we retired to our hotel.

I jumped in the lift.

And I am still waiting for the fire department.