Crummy beach

On a mission to escape the city, we headed to one of the nearest beaches - Aust and the Severn Estuary. It wouldn't have been my natural choice, but I was with a geologist, an artist, a very enthusiastic person (excited by anywhere) and a really nice person (not going to complain). So that's where we went, and I'm glad. It's weird. Kind of ugly, with the murky river, electricity pylons and traffic noise. But also kind of interesting. We wandered through some fields and along the path where the old ferry used to cross to get to Wales. Then I was instructed by Miss Enthusiastic to look out for fossils and nice rocks on the beach. This turned out to be an easy task, as the beach here is basically made from soft rocks that shatter as you walk across them. Most un-rock-like really, being all crumbly and blue or red, with the odd sparkly hard white one thrown in every so often. We enjoyed a picnic of bread, hoummus and kiwi fruit, took some photos and picked some blackberries. Then we headed back, pockets laden with our jurassic treasure. More of a school trip than a typical beach outing, but it's always good to change the scenery. In this case, especially if you're into surrealism.

Porth Kidney

The Summer gets filled up really quickly when you're not working, and it became apparent last week that my only time to fit in a trip to Cornwall is now. So I woke up in Penzance on Sunday morning and, after having applied for two jobs, felt a cliff walk was in order. I asked Mum to take me to somewhere I hadn't been before, and she didn't disappoint. We walked from Lelant to St Ives, along Porth Kidney and Carbis Bay, looking back over Gwithian and Godrevy. It's amazing how quickly you can feel a long way away from a city. School breaks up next week, so it was a good time to come, before the tourists take over! Gorgeous smells of wild flowers, stunning views of great expanses of sand and sea, all bathed in the beautiful Cornish light. There is so much space and beauty here, and suddenly I can't believe that school hasn't even broken up yet. I've done so much with my freedom already this Summer, and whether or not I get a job any time soon, I'm struck by the fact that I am still to share many spells of Summer happiness. How lucky I am to have family in Cornwall to visit. It makes going home all the more wonderful.

Carnival time!

You don't have to go far from my house to experience 70,000 people celebrating Afro-Caribbean culture by eating jerk chicken, drinking Red Stripe, dancing to sound systems on the street and throwing stuff on the floor. St Paul's Carnival happens on my doorstep (literally, as many a friend dropped in to use the loo, sit down for a moment or grab another beer), and it's a lot of fun. We were blessed with another gorgeous day, drawing long forgotten friends out from the cocoons of their cosy coupled lives, and the festival spirit hit the streets. We watched the parade, hung out in Portland Square, danced at the Malcolm X centre and ended up at the infamous Star and Garter, where a huge crowd refused to stop dancing as long as the tunes kept coming. A long, busy day, where I caught up with lots of great people and met some more. I love Bristol. This is why I can't stay away for long!

Glastonbury festival

2010 was my third Glastonbury, having been to 2003 and 2005. It was also, by far, the sunniest, as not a single drop of rain fell all weekend. For this reason, I think I'm not alone in saying it was a slightly more sensible affair. OK, so I danced like a lunatic, shouted lots, consumed plenty of alcohol day and night, and wandered around the crazy night-time city of Shangri-la with various new and old friends, dropping into diners, aeroplanes, gay bars and circus events. By no means was it sensible. But the combination of being hot all day, unable to catch up on sleep in an airless tent and therefore making the most of the festival daytime, and trying not to dehydrate, meant that less alcohol was consumed, being replaced by water. I'm also 5 years older than the last time I went, so maybe it wasn't a grown-up vibe at all, just a grown-up me.
Anyway, my new, daytime approach is going down well, as Boomtown last year was similarly hot and wonderful. I am terrible at sitting still, and more than happy to wander about in the sunshine all day, drinking cider (or water) and listening to world class musicians.
Highlights this year include Gorillaz, Shakira, Staff Benda Bilili, the Carnage Bar, Arcadia (a fire show on an unimaginable scale), making new friends, and the sunshine. Throughout, the music was not on a par with my previous two Glastonburys, as not many could compare with Lamb, Mogwai, Macy Gray, Morcheeba or Moloko of 2003, and no-one came within miles of Basement Jaxx of 2005. But then I saw Gomez in Avalon, a smaller, more intimate venue, and the standards were raised. They were incredible.
My advice is to be independent and mission to the acts you want to see, or just hang out at the West Holts stage, if you're anything like me and want to make the most of the music. You can sit down with your mates any old weekend! Most importantly, do it your way, and do not be afraid of missing out. There is so much to see you will miss a lot, but not as much as you take in!
All up, it was a great festival. Bigger, more overwhelming, more commercial every time, but endlessly entertaining. Looking forward to Boomtown already!

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.