Soul searching on 12th June

When my mum rang in the morning, and asked if I was doing anything special that day, I thought I'd better ask why before explaining that I'd been looking forward to St Werburgh's festival and the England v USA match all week. But mum wanted to know if I fancied visiting my granma in Wales as she'd be driving through later. Oh no! Family or friends is an easy choice, but family or friends, beer, music, dancing, sunshine and an England match is slightly less so. Although these are all special to me, I knew I had to take her up on the offer. And so to Wales, on the first England match day of the World Cup!
I live by many mottos, and one of them has something to do with prioritising things which are good for the soul. This trip was. As the sun shone on the Werburghers, Lucy and I were squished in the back of my parents posh looking but very cramped car. That evening we found ourselves in a Welsh pub with loads of Welsh rugby fans, aka, our aunties and uncles, wistfully looking over their shoulders at the distant TV screen. Not a single person in the pub cared enough about the plight of their English neighbours to sit near the tele. But as the evening progressed, and the wine flowed, we relaxed, enjoying a wonderful cod dinner and starting a variety of drinking games. Even the barmen joined in by the end!
The next day we spent with Granma, and took a walk around Porthcawl. As it started to rain, we all sheltered in a cafe. This cafe definitely wins the prize for inhospitality in my eyes! My sister was told not to use the loo unless she bought something, my mum was shouted at when she pointed out she'd been undercharged, the tea was lukewarm and the tablecloths dirty. The owner was also asleep on the sofa. We all found it quite hard not to laugh.
That evening we spent with the kids of my cousins. Four boys aged 7 - 11, who, thankfully for Lucy and I, are fans of all sports. Happily watching the Germany v Australia match, we enjoyed another glass or four of wine, and reminded ourselves that it's good for the soul to visit your family every now and again.

Warleigh Weir

Since I've been back from Lanzarote, and the sun has endlessly shone on Bristol's streets, I have been fruitlessly searching for my ideal local swimming spot. Although I've lived here on and off for a long time, I haven't ever really spent a Summer here. Being variously a student or teacher, this has been my time to escape. And now I'm perplexed. What do Bristolians do when it's hot? My natural urge is to find water and jump in it. Wherever else I've lived, this has not posed any sort of problem, but in Bristol, finding water to jump in takes some serious brainpower. Not the harbourside - too dirty. Paddling pool in St Andrew's Park - full of kids. Clifton Lido - too expensive. Portishead open air swimming pool looks glorious, but not easily accessible for a carless one. Even getting a paddling pool seems a bit pointless, as our garden is in the almost constant shade of the neighbours' tree and at risk of a visit from their cat. So on Saturday morning, not too early, Hannah and I caught the train to Bath, in search of some clean water to keep me cool throughout the Summer.
We cycled along the towpath towards Bradford (upon Avon), and veered off at Warleigh Weir. This place is a real find! It is a big open field where you are free to hang out with the cows at your leisure, and the Weir is beautiful. Although it does not come close to topping the list of my favourite outdoor swimming spots, it does seem to be one of the closest to me geographically at the moment. Plus it's free, and offers an added curiosity factor of dodging mud, reeds and fish. I'd say our find was a success.
After hanging out, drying off and refuelling with plenty of pasta salad, we headed back to Bristol on our bikes, cycling around 22 miles more along the cycle path, with a stop at The Bird in Hand for a glass of rose. On the way home we passed Saltford and Bitten, which might be worth a look for future swims.
If you have a free day, cycling to Warleigh is a great option, but if anyone knows of any others spots where I can swim outdoors in Bristol, please let me know!

Lanzarote!

I love Lanzarote!
I've just got back from a week over there, where I was visiting an old and precious friend. It could not have been sweeter. Ada has a pool in her garden and a beach on her doorstep. She also has perfect skin, a beautiful heart and a very bright spirit.
We spent the first few days catching up, chilling out and waiting for my sister to appear from the ash cloud which had unhelpfully swallowed her up. In the meantime, I didn't give a single thought to the bad boys, scary no-work situation or massive to-do list left behind in England. My priorities were simply how often to reapply suncream and... oh no, there was only that one!
So when Lucy finally did appear on the magical island of lava, light and langoustines, Ada and I were ready for some action. We started drinking at lunchtime, and a few bottles of wine, lots of baby squid and some crazy karaoke later, Lucy and I found ourselves back in the flat in the early hours of the next day. Without Ada. We awoke to the sight of the world's hottest men, who insisted on making us tea and taking us to some special secret surf spot. We had a lot of fun, lounging around and translating for Ada and her hot new friend, who were interested in one another but unfortunately unable to speak the same language.
We were so impressed. By Ada and her ability to find such fitties, by the beauty of an island in the Atlantic, covered in lava, with smatterings of one story white houses around the edge, but mostly by the Ironmen. We were quite sad that the ash didn't prevent us from getting home, as the next day thousands of dedicated athletes would be swimming 4k, cycling over 100k and running a marathon. We'd watched them train throughout the week, complaining about the heat as we sat in the shade with a cold beer!
Lanzarote is an amazing place, and with Ada in it, it really is magical.

Walk, swim, run, cycle

After 4 days at home in Penzance, I feel like a new person!
My parents picked me up on their way through Bristol on Saturday. Friday had been my last day at work so I'd spent many hours in the pub afterwards, and could have done with a lie in, but was happy to forsake it in place of a free ride. We got to PZ in time for tea - supplied by my big sis who lives fairly nearby. We missed Lucy, as the bank holiday had brought the rest of us together (Mum n Dad, 3 girls, 3 babies).
Taking advantage of the free babysitting, Kate and I headed out for a drink. It's rare for the two of us to have any time together now there are babies and few hundred miles between us, so a glass of wine and a chat was welcome. Our high spirits were not at all reflected in our surroundings, however. Penzance was dead, and this is bank holiday weekend! Once again I remind myself not to move back any time soon!
Sunday, and we all met in sunny St Ives, to build sandcastles, paddle and splash. My first beach day this year - not a bad start to unemployment! As the evening set in I felt I couldn't really delay the start of the new me, and made the huge effort of running to Newlyn and back (around 4 miles/ 7k I'd guess).
Monday morning, another day off for us all, and I jumped out of bed and ran it all again! Then mum, Kate, baby Ella and I walked our way to Marazion, an easy and beautiful journey when the sun is shining. There's nothing quite like St Michaels Mount for making me feel at home. The blue sky and calm sea punctuated by the odd seagull, kitesurfer, or my personal favourite, a dog who cannot believe his luck at the huge expanse of sand and water to run and play in. This is how I like dogs best, from a happy and sweet smelling distance. In the evening the grown up girls headed to Truro for another not-so-wild night out. Bank holiday weekend and we had the bar to ourselves! How can Cornwall be so laid back it actually forgets to party?
I stayed over at Pippa's so that I could babysit Zac in the morning, and had a fabulous time tiring him out at the park. I can't really think of better company, as this child does not cry, question or demand. He simply smiles, coos and cuddles. Back on the train, and in the afternoon Mum n I walked from Pendeen to Portherris. A stunning sunny Cornish cove, just for us! I can't describe how fresh the air felt, how bright the hegderows and how sweet-smelling the gorse on the walk down. Forgetting the 10 months of fog and gloom, this would be a wonderful place to live!
Tuesday, my first real day off, as school is back on. I got Mum to myself again, and we hopped on our bikes and cycled to Prussia Cove. We happened across a car-boot on our way, and took in the festival atmosphere, as it was all sunny again, with people milling about and a background hum of generators. Down to the cove and I jumped into the sea for the first wild swim of the year. Refreshing! If you want to feel alive, I recommend cycling along the coast and jumping into freezing waters, shared only by a curious seal! We ate our pasties and hung out on the beach, reluctantly returning in time for me to catch my train back to Bristol. Time to face the unemployed facts. I think I'll just put a wash on, write to some friends, go shopping, drink coffee...
I'm planning to start a business, but not today!

London living

After hanging out in London for 2 weeks I have come to the conclusion that Londoners settle for less. Each of my many friends there is undoubtedly happy and fulfilled, but they seem to be content with so much less than the non-Londoner would expect. After a battle to get onto the tube, a squished, uncomfortable journey, general rudeness from people on all sides, a day sitting at a desk, and endless traffic noise, Londoners return to a flat which is a bit smaller, a bit nastier, a bit harder to get to and at least three times the price of anything you'd pay for elsewhere. I just cannot get over the prices! Extortionate travel costs to visit friends in hard-to-reach places, extortionate drinks prices to relieve the boredom of a London day at work, and extortionate dinner prices, so you can be reassured that there's a reason why you earn loads of money... Londoners splash their cash at every opportunity. I am not convinced. If possible, I'd love to stay in walk-around Bristol, where the pints and the houses are affordable. Londoners may make me feel poor, what with their whopping salaries, gym memberships and clothes by designers I've never heard of, but after a little taste of London living, my return to Bristol makes me feel rich and indulged. I'm so happy to be back!

Racing ducks and flat frogs

A weekend in Deerpark Forest, North Cornwall, to celebrate Grampy's 60th. I had pictured leisurely rambles, kids tucked up in bed and long nights of reading books and playing scrabble... I hadn't banked on living one of the most tiring weekends of 2010 so far! Throw in a two-year-old, a one-year-old and a 4 monther, 4 sisters, two brothers-in-law, Nana and Grampy, a three course meal, surprise party, three cakes to decorate, countless presents to unwrap, a rubber duck race and torrential rain... My book did not see the light of day!
But a lot of fun was had, introducing 'Baby Ella' to her cousins, blowing bubbles, popping balloons, flat frog spotting and almost losing children to mud. I have a very funny, noisy, caring family, who could not be loved by, or love Grampy more. What better way to show this, than with a cake decorating competition, in which, I am happy to say, Nana did not win with her 'F***ing Nutter' cake! No complaints from 2-year-old Vinny though, who devoured it the minute the candles were blown out! Cake, chocolate and bubbles galore. Happy Birthday Grampy (you F***ing Nutter!)!

I'm looking for a sea-horse...

In half term I met my sister and her two boys, aged 2 and 1, in Plymouth, to visit the aquarium. I've been to aquariums before, and like to stroll through at a leisurely pace, reading up about the creatures and their quirky ways (some fish are all born male and the best ones turn female, and seahorses are bisexual). But my two-year-old nephew had other ideas. So we set about ticking sea creatures off Vinny's list. 'I want to see fish, turtles, sea horses, crabs, stingrays, sharks and an octopus' he said. The only problem was that he wanted to see them in that order, and he only wanted to see them, not really learn about, watch, or even look at them. Each time a helpful aquarium worker was spotted Vinny would approach, asking politely 'Excuse me, I'm looking for a ...', and off we would go to the appropriate area, only satisfied once the creature had been spotted. This involved zig-zagging through the multi-storey aquarium with mummy, auntie, pram and baby brother in tow, at least three times. It's fun racing around aquariums with two-year-olds, but I'm kind of with Zac on this one, who clearly just wanted to sit and watch the fish swim by. Needless to say, we were all exhausted by lunchtime, and stopped in the shop on our way out, where I suggested to Vinny that he choose a souvenir. Vinny, certain as ever, made a quick and definite choice, and we left with some bath toys, three fish and a turtle named Scally, Scrally, Scrabby and Thomas. Disaster struck on the way home, when we realised that Scrabby had escaped, but Vinny's tears were tempered when mummy told Vinny where he'd gone. The best part of the day? Hearing Scally bravely explaining to Scrally in the bath that evening 'it's ok, don't worry, Scrabby swum back to see his mummy'.