When I was with the walking group recently, we walked from Eyemouth to Coldingham, and crossed Coldingham Bay.
There is a string of very modest beach huts. Not the smart affairs you see along the south coast, or the world famous beach huts of St Kilda in Melbourne. These are homely affairs, quite scruffy, but, most importantly, loved. I can imagine the world inside each one. Their owner's 8' x 6' spot on the planet, where they keep all the stuff they need for a bit of time away from it all. Probably a primus stove, an assortment of china, odd mugs and caddies with tea bags, coffee and some granulated. A few shells, collected by the children and grandchildren. Stripey deck chairs, an old card table covered in a bit of plastic coated fabric, a rug or two, because the wind is cold, coming off the North Sea. And an old jumper for those even chillier days. Beach towels and swimming stuff, and a portable barbecue. What more could you wish for. Oh, maybe a few books, a little curled at the edges from the cold and damp!
Well, actually, someone did wish for more, and they got it. Look at the new building, nestling into the hillside. It couldn't contrast more with the gaggle of huts below. Read about it here, and take a guided tour!
It's all very glamorous and fabulous, but from the old timers there is still the same view of the sunset, but with the intimacy and homeliness that I love about sheds. I know which I prefer.