As part of the upcoming development in Porthcawl, a number of buildings will be removed to make way for regeneration. One friend has coined the name “The Grim Peeper”, joking that as businesses close, I arrive with my camera. It’s a funny notion, but not completely untrue. Much of what I do is centred around transition, and it can be difficult not to feel compelled to document endings.

The Beachcomber has its own reputation and lore locally. It certainly wasn’t for everyone, but for many it has been, at least once, for them. It was great to be allowed inside, but even greater to explore the upstairs area — previously a nightclub space a decade ago, with evidence of other uses since. There is something powerful about seeing a place like this out of its context. The garish pink of the bar, the green of the carpet, the grubbiness of the doors. All would have been hidden by darkness and dancefloor lighting. There is nowhere to hide in the light of day.

Later, I went back to photograph the final night. It’s not an environment I am wholly comfortable in with a camera. I am always mindful of the line between photography and invasiveness, something a flash does little to soften. Once I started taking pictures, though, it became clear that people were more than happy to be photographed.

What stayed with me most were the stories. One couple, who had been there since opening that day, were staying in a nearby bed and breakfast. They have a caravan in Trecco Bay, and the Beachcomber had always been their local when they were in town. Since Trecco was closed, they stayed elsewhere, just to be there one last time. Another spoke about coming here after shifts at the fair, also now gone. Someone else had flown back from Greece simply to say goodbye.

I didn’t stay long. I’m too old for late nights now. But it was clear this was more than just the closing of a pub. It was the closing of a chapter. Places like this hold fragments of people’s lives: routines, relationships, versions of themselves that only existed within those walls. By morning, it would just be another empty building, waiting for whatever comes next.