I arrived at Cleethorpes late in the evening. The town was vibrating with holidaymakers lining the promanade, looking for a last drink. I found Ross Castle, not a real castle but a mock ruin built in 1863 by the Manchester, Sheffield and Lincolnshire Railway. It seemed like a good viewpoint to see the ferry arrive, hanging over the Estuary with a view looking inland towards the Pier.
Four hours later I had my camera set up with the sun rising on the far side of the water. Ross Castle, the mock ruin had been mistaken for a elevated urinal several times that evening and glass littered the concrete. I witnessed the local swim club front crawling up to the pier and back, a stark contrast to the revellers trying to get home on land. It was a glorious morning.