We’re here in Blackpool now, we’ve been here for nearly two weeks and we’re settling in very well, it is twinned with with Benidorm of course, well, that’s what most believe anyway, and it’s not difficult to see why. Just one walk up the promenade gives the game away, it’s that emerald green sea topped by a vast blue sky flecked with streaky nimbus, the fluffy yellow sand, the aroma of liberally applied sun tan lotion and the hot breeze gently wafting at your hair. Aah, it is indeed home from home.
In 11 days we’ve had just two that could be described as “okay”, the rest of the time has been spent being splashed upon, chilled to the marrow, being bullied by gale force winds, and buffeted from lamp post to tram stop like a silver ball in a pin ball machine.
Last Sunday there was a vintage car rally on the promenade, sadly they picked a day when 65mph winds were whipping up the sea against the coastal defences and depositing salty froth on all who dared to tread within a hundreds yards of the beach. This resulted in lines and lines of 60’s “MG’s”, “E type” Jags, pre war buses and pristine “Ford Anglias” gently swaying from side to side whilst the heavy coated occupants sat rigid in their seats clutching at flasks and nibbling on sandwiches. All this in the middle of June! We were diving from one shop doorway to another fiercely holding on to each other for ballast, bent forward at forty five degrees if we were heading for the storms eye, or an involuntary canter if downwind.
We popped into “Ripleys, - Believe it or not!” for some respite as much as anything else, which has an amazing collection of artifacts. There are six legged sheep, two headed cows, skateboarding chimps, and various other weird and wonderful sights of questionable authenticity, I mean, there’s even a photo of Blackpool Tower bathed in sunshine for Gods sake!!
The small typhoon also featured on the front page of the local paper – “Horror at local dog show”. The headlines might have been a tad over the top, as far as I know, several marquees were blown over, some rubbish was blown into the street and a startled Jack Russell was retrieved from up a tree in Fleetwood.
In 11 days we’ve had just two that could be described as “okay”, the rest of the time has been spent being splashed upon, chilled to the marrow, being bullied by gale force winds, and buffeted from lamp post to tram stop like a silver ball in a pin ball machine.
Last Sunday there was a vintage car rally on the promenade, sadly they picked a day when 65mph winds were whipping up the sea against the coastal defences and depositing salty froth on all who dared to tread within a hundreds yards of the beach. This resulted in lines and lines of 60’s “MG’s”, “E type” Jags, pre war buses and pristine “Ford Anglias” gently swaying from side to side whilst the heavy coated occupants sat rigid in their seats clutching at flasks and nibbling on sandwiches. All this in the middle of June! We were diving from one shop doorway to another fiercely holding on to each other for ballast, bent forward at forty five degrees if we were heading for the storms eye, or an involuntary canter if downwind.
We popped into “Ripleys, - Believe it or not!” for some respite as much as anything else, which has an amazing collection of artifacts. There are six legged sheep, two headed cows, skateboarding chimps, and various other weird and wonderful sights of questionable authenticity, I mean, there’s even a photo of Blackpool Tower bathed in sunshine for Gods sake!!
The small typhoon also featured on the front page of the local paper – “Horror at local dog show”. The headlines might have been a tad over the top, as far as I know, several marquees were blown over, some rubbish was blown into the street and a startled Jack Russell was retrieved from up a tree in Fleetwood.
For news of the Concert Chairman's tandem cycle ride with his wife Elsie from John O'Groats to Lands End, click on - http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=143841813&blogID=414034290
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