A song about a beach bar in North Cornwall, where the seagulls swirl – I like seagulls- and you can watch the sun go down while drinking cocktails (or pints of Italian lager).
The bar, these days called the Watering Hole, was Bob Job’s Beach Bar when I knew it. It sold many a deck chair, pastie and ice cream cone, as well as copious amounts of drink. One the world’s best places.