Started out very well, weather wise. Sunny intervals all the way.
We were on our way to Dinas Dinlle, just south of Caernarfon. SWMBO and Harvey the pup in her little car and I toddled behind on my bike. I thought I was pootling behind but after a pit stop by the car party, unknowingly to me, I had powered into the lead. Thinking I am not catching up I piled on the power to the next rendezvous. Nary a sign of the car party. A few text messages then off through the sea side towns of the Welsh coast, on to Caernarfon.
As I left the A55 I decided it would be a good idea to check the location of our holiday bungalow, so stopping in a lay-bye I connected my satnav. Problem! Somehow I had put Satnav Sally in mute mode. After a little bit of fiddling, a quick sod it and I decided to follow with display only.
Back on the road, it wasn't too long before I rapidly closed in on a vaguely familiar silver car (Are all cars painted a variation of silver?) I recognised the bird dropping marks on the boot. Yes, it was SWMBO and Harvey, my faithful companion. Harvey that is. So backing off the throttle I trailed behind the car party.
Arriving in Caernarfon, we followed its peculiar one way system, I hadn't been here for about ten years but I remembered the route. Unfortunately, SWMBO had a 'Wigan moment' (Now that's another story.) and she managed to peel off into the town centre. I continued on the A487 and A599. Didn't worry too much about SWMBO as she had Harvey with her.
Eventually, Satnav Sally displayed a right turn. Bad move as she proceeded to indicate a route along a chicken run, even a pedestrian would have had difficulty navigating this lane. At last the chicken run opened out back onto a road leading to our caravan camp and our holiday bungalow. The car party arrived as I took possession of our accommodation.
Well after changing out of my bike gear into what passes as my holiday gear, off down to the beach we trekked. A lot easier these days, memories of trekking down the beach with the family years ago flashed through my mind. Sherpa Tensing wasn't in it! This time just a good stock of dog poo bags and a frisbee.
Harvey demonstrating how to paddle to SWMBO.
Harvey instructing SWMBO on pebble recognition, NB the redundant frisbee!
"Come on then, throw the pebble, haven't got all day."
The tide had just gone out so the sand was wet and firm. Let off the lead, Harvey ran all over the place - at last freedom. Our biggest test and worry about him was the recall. We shouldn't have bothered. He loved the beach, sands, pebbles and sea. When the little chap was worn out, chasing pebbles thrown by SWMBO, he completely ignored the frisbee, we meandered our way down to the chipshop.
I have usually enjoyed fish and chips at the seaside, recalling memories of al fresco dining at Blackpool, Southport, Rhyl et al. Mounds of hot, freshly cooked chips with fish the size of a whale covered in the most tasty batter and mushy peas, slightly spiced. Accompanied with huge doorsteps of buttered bread and steaming hot tea in a pint mug - with change out of a bob! A feast fit for a king! The worries of the war and post war poverty simply slipped away.
Rudely catapulted back to the present by SWMBO asking what I wanted for my 'tea'. With such good memories I asked for fish, chips and peas. After what seemed like an age we made our way back to the deluxe bungalow. Unwrapping our meal the chips were warm and the batter on the fish had become limp and greasy. SWMBO put it down to the modern packaging of plastic boxes making the food steam and lose its freshness. Edible but it could not match my memories of yesteryear.
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