Monday 28 September 2020

Last of The Summer Tour Sunday 27th September 2020

 

 

 Dave and I embraced the summer holiday that Boris gave us and did our bit to get the economy moving but at the same time we were staying alert and only visiting places where we felt they were taking the safety of their customers seriously. We were always conscious that once the weather started to close in and there was always a chance of a second lockdown, we needed to make the most of our freedom. That said we are always on high alert (and possibly over cautious) but we do get frustrated at the stupidity, lack of awareness or even arrogance of other people who are not following the simple social distancing rules being asked of them.

The Last of the Summer Tour is a charity event which was rescheduled from April and was to be a pared down version of the original. Two weeks ago with the introduction of the Rule of Six, the organisers consulted Thames Valley Police to see if it could still go ahead and subject to a few additional safety protocols, they were given the go ahead. However, last week, with yet more restrictions introduced, the logistics of it became such that it would have been almost pointless to proceed and so it was cancelled, bringing to an end our very limited car season. (As it happens I wasn't well anyway, but that is by the by.) As my friend Karen Strand often says, "it is what it is" and there is no point in getting distressed about things we can't change.




Great Yarmouth - Autumnal Equinox 22nd September 2020





After enjoying a glorious, if mostly car free summer, this was too good an opportunity to miss. Our last trip to Great Yarmouth was the disastrous episode of diesel in the Hot Rod's petrol tank and this trip in the Astra looked like it was heading the same way. After enjoying the splendour of yet another fabulous sunrise coming up over the A421 and keeping one eye on the engine management light that had appeared on the dashboard in Bedford, we realised nearly half way into the 120 mile journey that the engine was losing power. I didn't dare stop as I didn't fancy another roadside vigil. At least if we broke down in Yarmouth, we could still enjoy ourselves while we got the car fixed. It was only at the the end of the journey, I realised the engine had actually gone into limp mode. Once I switched the engine off and restarted it, everything was fine! Nevertheless, the car has been put in for its service and MOT today and it turned out to be nothing more than a faullty sensor.

 

I love being at the seaside in the early morning, when only the local dog walkers are out. Dave and I found a nice little café with an outdoor terrace overlooking the beach and we enjoyed a bacon sarnie and tea. Not a bad start to the day. The weather was glorious and we enjoyed walking the full length of the promenade up to the Pleasure Beach and back, sunbathed on the beach for most of the aafternoon, after eating a meal of average tasting fish and chips, strolled the other way to the Waterways, which look lovely and were well worth the cost of the lottery funded restoration project. It got chilly late afternoon, so we headed back to Bedford and arrived home without incident.

Friday 18 September 2020

Oh! Barry Island – that’s lush!

 




Fans of the BBC comedy series Gavin and Stacey will be familiar with Barry Island. If you’ve never watched it, please do- it’s hilarious. We travelled the 169 mile, 4 hour (!) journey in the Astra, safe in the knowledge that the weather was going to be superb. It would have been an ideal Hot Rod trip but we are mostly keeping it under wraps as we don’t want to attract attention i.e. people coming up to us and the car. About 12 miles away from Cardiff, Barry Island as a seaside resort was every bit as tacky as we expected it to be; with the amusement arcades, souvenir shops and takeaway food shops but it was so much more than that. The view over Whitmore Bay and the Bristol Channel was superb, the large sandy beach was lovely and the whole place was completely litter free, a credit to the local community.

 

Every morning began with bacon baguettes and a cup of tea outside Marco’s, enjoying the early morning sun and the fresh sea air, along with a few locals and their dogs. Monday was Dave’s birthday and we were delighted to share it with our friends Ian, Anne and Clare Oliver (who was having a rare break from her doctor duties at Cheltenham Hospital). Most of the day was spent just chilling on the beach, just as the fictional Wests and the Shipman family did. We took an occasional stroll along the beach, promenade, to the fish and chip shop or for an ice cream. The weather was glorious and we certainly enjoyed the opportunity to catch some rays and chew the cud.

 

Our hotel, Premier Inn, is just inland on the waterfront in the old docks area. In the 60’s, following the decline of the docks, this area became the famous Barry scrapyard where hundreds of steam locomotives were sent for scrap. Luckily, before they met this fate, most of them were rescued and are now restored and running, keeping steam enthusiasts happy, all around the country. Now the area is a huge housing development of modern properties, which makes Barry a much more up market place than it was back in the days when Butlin’s dominated the coastal skyline. Unfortunately there is very little in the way of entertainment and restaurant facilities. There were a few very nice looking ones, in particular a new complex called Goodsheds, which only opened 3 weeks ago and yet they don’t open on Mondays and Tuesdays! I despair of these businesses. In a few weeks’ time when the weather cools and the nights get darker, no one is going to want to sit outside, so why not make hay while the sun shines?

 

The next day, we headed west and stopped off at Porthkerry Country Park to look at the 30m high, 16 arch railway viaduct, built at the end of the 19th century. Structures like these never fail to impress me and you can almost feel the sweat and hard graft that went into the building of it. Part of the Vale of Glamorgan Railway, it linked Bridgend to Barry Dock, which, by 1913 was the busiest coal port in the world.

 

After hugging the coastline the best we could, we parked up at Coney Beach in the holiday resort of Porthcawl (free parking and free toilets). This area was a little run down and had lots of litter, the aspect of it not helped by the overcast and drizzly sky, but we still walked the length of the promenade. Its trade was very dependent on the South Wales miners holidaying there and of course these mines are all now closed. The silver pound is much in evidence though and there is a programme of rejuvenation in progress, of mixed results. The marina area is looking good which cannot be said of the wonderful Victorian building which was demolished and replaced with a building that won an architect’s award but is nicknamed the Bottlebank by the locals. 

 

 It was frustrating to see how businesses like the Piccolo Café (nicknamed dickalo café by us) seem determined to use the Covid rules to make their business fail and yet still not offer sufficient safety to their customers! Unlike the pub restaurant at Coney Beach Amusement Park which was spot on with its safety protocols and money making opportunities. After our lunch consisting of the local delicacy of faggots and mushy peas, we moved onto Rest Bay and watched the surfers catch a few waves before we returned to Barry and had a peek at “Gwen’s house”.  With everything else closed we reluctantly went to Wetherspoons for dinner, but were pleasantly surprised at how good the staff were at keeping surfaces clean, controlling idiotic customers and the food was decent too. (Ironically, we had stopped using Wetherspoons before lockdown because of staff shortages and grubby tables!

 

Our last day we moved a few miles east to Penarth, which is close to Cardiff and found this to be a delightful seaside resort. After a walk along the flower-lined promenade, we spent most of the day sitting on the small, but perfectly formed Victorian pier, reading and watching the world go by and the tide come in on the Severn Estuary, while we basked in the glorious sunshine. A fairly new development on the seafront is a fine example of how good modern architecture can be. The townhouses upstairs sold for £1 million pound each, making them the most expensive houses in Wales, even though there is a chip shop and restaurants below! A welcome Covid addition; the parking places outside have been converted to a “garden” with tables and chairs so we were able to sit there with a drink and look at the beach. We could have been anywhere in the Mediterranean! Finally it was time to come home and we traversed the Prince of Wales Bridge back into England, just as the sun started to set behind us and after a smooth, three and a half hour journey we were home.