A trip to Blackpool*

The first day of my holiday and I find myself wide awake well before six o'clock in the morning. It is bloody typical, the first day of the week that I don't have to haul my arse out of bed and I am up before cock crow ...

... to be honest it was useful to be up and about early as we are off down to the Gower today and neither of us could be bothered to do any packing yesterday. Therefore we need this morning to, if you will forgive the vernacular, get our shit together. At this point I should point out that 30% did brave Tesco on Thursday evening so we have adequate supplies for our week in Pwll Du Bay.*

Whilst 30% and TP slumbered I started my preparations for our week away; cameras and laptop were packed in to bags, iPads, Kindles and their respective charging leads were piled ready for the off and rolls of film** and Sat Nav were removed from their respective homes and positioned where they would not be forgotten.

By the time 30% had risen I had assembled everything but my clothes and had made several trips to the garage to ensure that there was adequate food for the chickens and that the roof bag was ready to be attached to the roof rack on the Defender. I then took time out to nip in to Redditch to buy 30%'s Birthday Card as she celebrates her anniversary on the last day of our holiday next Friday...

... 30% asked me to pick up a few last minute items from the supermarket and as a result I had to spend twenty minutes zombie dodging in Tesco's aisles. Why is it that the majority of the population appear to loose all mental faculties and awareness of others the moment they attach themselves to the handles of a trolly and start to browse the stacked rows of grocery store? They lurch from side to side, oblivious to all other consumers and their feral, fucking children rave and charge around the aisles clad in obscenely bright, but grubby and tasteless synthetic apparel. I really wish that Waitrose  was a) closer and b) had a better selection of greetings cards. I am also eternally grateful that 30% does much of our grocery shopping. I also think that we should reconsider what actually does constitute justifiable homicide in the light of my experiences with the supermarket undead.

I arrived back at home in time to see TP depart to spend a few days at his Grandma's house with his Mum, brother and sister. He will join us in Pwll Du on Monday evening, taking a train from Paddington down to Swansea to meet up with us.

After an early lunch we loaded up the Defender, threw T&M in to the back and headed off down the M5. An hour or so later we had passed through the short tunnel at Monmouth and could see the snow covered  Brecon Beacons ahead of us. By three thirty we were driving through Swansea's plethora of traffic lights*** and once the other side of the city we were ten minutes from the steep and rocky cliff track that leads down to the bay.

With an efficiency that comes from two previous visits to Ship Cottage, we were unpacked and drinking coffee within a quarter of an hour and were walking across the stony shore shortly after that.

The evening was spent in front of the log burner having consumed a steak supper and a bottle of red wine. Once the TV was switched off the only noise was the roar of the incoming tide as it pounds the cobbles at the head of the beach.

I am warm, my appetite is sated and I have no demands on my time ... It is truly delightful here.

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* Pwll Du translates from Welsh as Black Pool and is named for the pool that forms in a bend in the river before it empties in to the Bay.
** I am taking the Rolleicord as well as the Canon
*** These are always red