Arcade games. Chess. Soft serve ice cream. Mario Kart. The Gummy Bear song. Island Path. Fireworks. These are the perfect memories that come to mind when I think of Hampton Beach. We used to go there every August with my dad’s family.

Mornings spent with pajamas on, and messy hair while we played Mario Kart for hours on end. The salty smell of the ocean rushes through the open windows. Walking up our street, Island Path, to the beach and seeing a quarter on the ground. Every time, one of us would try and pick it up. It was glued to the ground.

Jumping through giant waves. Sandcastles. Burying our entire bodies in sand. One time while swimming in the ocean, seaweed was flung around by me and my cousins. Bugs crawled all over my cousin when a piece of seaweed landed on him, like bees rushing out of a hive. He was not happy, but he got over it.

The ice cold water cools you off on a hot day. One summer, the water was so warm that it felt almost like  bathwater. We spent the entire day at the beach. Even my parents went swimming, and they both hate the beach.  

Arcade games. Ice cream. Boardwalk. Our favorite arcade was called Happy Hampton. It was closest to our cottage, and it was the only arcade that had air conditioning. This was crucial on a hot summer night. Happy Hampton was the one and only for years. Too much money spent on gaming tokens, only for cheap prizes. It was fun nonetheless. One winter, my aunt told me that Happy Hampton had burned down. There was a fire and it was gone. From then on, the location of Happy Hampton became Sad Hampton.

Ice cream next. We would walk all the way down the boardwalk to this one stand that had soft serve ice cream. On our way back to the cottage we would tell funny stories, and make up our own songs. Singing and dancing and running until the sun went down.

Fireworks. Exploding right in front of your eyes. Wednesday nights. We would always be there. Half of the beach and the ocean was blocked off by bright orange tape. You could still hear the waves crashing in the background. When the show began, it was as if your mind was wiped clear of anything and everything. Staring at those lights was mesmerising. All you needed was a sweatshirt and a pair of flip flops and everything else fell into place. These nights were pure perfection. I wouldn’t trade those nights for the world.