My son had his school trip there and I went along for the ride under strict instructions not to embarrass him. Moi? I was put in charge of a group of six ten years and sent off into the coastal wilderness a mile or two along from the main promenade. There we were let loose to record wildlife, find shells and draw animals we spotted which included a dead crab. There's always a dead crab; and somebody always has to pick it up and fling it by a claw.
The children's favourite beach game turned out to be "bury your pencil" and some wonderfully elaborate castle constructions were molded with their said pencil planted deep within. Luckily they were reunited with them in time to complete the necessary Key Stage 2 paperwork before a lunch of sausage and chips.
After lunch we headed towards the pier and played "catch" with a tennis ball. Then some of the children buried Joe in a massive hole which he really enjoyed. I don't believe you're truly a child until you've been buried up to your neck in sand. It reminded me of when I was little on a family holiday in Northern Ireland way back in the 1970's. Here I am with my older sister:-
Well after all that playing us grown ups were pretty whacked, but the children could have gone on for hours. As we walked back up the beach, our mouths watered at the smell of fresh doughnuts, a bag of which unfortunately didn't come included in the school trip price. There was just time for a quick municipal toilet dash before heading home. Some of the boys got into a bit of trouble for having a screaming competition inside a cubicle. I pretended to look cross at them but there is something about echoy down-at-heel brick buildings which make the acoustics irresistible. Back on the coach I snoozed to the dulcet tones of "Top Gear" fanatic, Tom, reeling off the type and model of every car we passed on the M180. All in all a marvellous adventure and Cleethorpes with all it's tradition and simple pleasures comes highly recommended!