On Newburgh beach baht hat

I got badly caught out by the weather this morning. I was way along the beach when, quite shockingly, the sun started to shine with some ferocity. There I was, hatless, or baht hat as they say in the land of my birth. To augment the shelter provided by what now passes for my hair, I was forced to resort to that old seaside favourite of the British on holiday, the knotted handkerchief. It was really quite appropriate headwear for a tyke born in Holmfirth, the home of Bamforth's infamous, saucy seaside postcards.