Today was one of those 'we have to walk somewhere, just pick a place' walks. So Matthew and I shot off to the prom in the hopes that it wouldn't be too busy on this very fine evening – this was Wednesday, just so you know, because we're a little behind again. Not that it matters; I just like to document these things.
It wasn't as busy as I expected – it'll probably be busier at the weekend, so we'll avoid the prom then, for sure.
We livened things up a bit with a short, pebbly stroll on the beach. I almost broke an ankle right at the bottom of these steps when I went over on a big stone, and Matthew laughed at me so that was quite lively.
An interesting thing happened here. The smell of the sea didn't hit us at all until we stepped over the pebble line and onto the muddy sand. Why's that? The slight breeze was coming towards us from the sea, but it was like we stepped through a forcefield. I didn't think of stepping back through it to see if the smell disappeared.
I always thought the smell of the sea was ozone. Apparently, I'm not the only one, and it's because the Victorians said it was ozone. But it's not – it's a bacteria that breaks down all the dead plant matter in the oceans. It's not fish and it's not seaweed. Bet you didn't know that.
So, I told Matthew we would be walking as far as we could see, and the poor little fella's face did that thing when someone's trying to be brave. 'Ohhhh,' says I, 'don't worry, son, it's not as far as it looks.' He forced himself to smile, but I could tell he'd had enough already. Sometimes, the legs just haven't got it in 'em. Nevertheless, we were here now and we might as well have a bit of a wander.
Plenty of room for social distancing today, see. I tell you what, though, people weren't as smiley today. I smiled at everyone we passed and said hello, but no one said anything back this time. I can only think it was my blue hair and that people in Morecambe aren't keen. Maybe they prefer pink.
Matthew was after any excuse to stop for a few seconds' rest this evening. 'Look, Mother,' says he, 'new signposts – take a picture.' So I did, allowing Matthew approximately three seconds to sit on a bench. 'Come on,' says I, 'the quicker we get there, the quicker we can get back.' I sound like a right mum sometimes.
Snapped a quick sunset for you. It's a good one, that, eh? I could put that in a bloody sunset competition!
I honestly can't decide if I like this new building or not. It's a lot better looking than the hotel that was here before, but is it an attractive building? I just don't know. I don't think it can be said that it fits in with its surroundings, I can tell you that much.
Sorry, I don't know why I'm speaking all Lancashire this evening! Does it read as though I'm writing in Lancashire today? Sometimes I write in posh, and sometimes I write with a slight American twang, but I have no idea if that comes through at all! These are just the voices in my head. Anyway, be reet!
I thought this was a thoroughly pleasant walk. A very gentle breeze, very few people, a lovely, warm, clear night. It was just a shame that Matthew was tired out, poor chap.
But before we knew it, we were at Baywatch Tower and this was as far as I said we would go. Matthew looked at me suspiciously, absolutely certain I would make him walk a mile further out, but I didn't – I was nice today.
And then we saw this chap again. Every time we come here he's out running! Looks like he's aged a bit since last time we saw him.
We saw some proper sand today. It wasn't on the beach, strangely, but on the pavement. There's none left on the beach here at all. I suppose that's because it's all on the pavement. This sand is exactly like the sand on Bamburgh beach – I could show you, but that would be cheating because we went there last year. I'll save it for when we go there again – you'll love it! I'm going to live in Bamburgh one day.
Matthew didn't feel like having a sit down and a rest because he just wanted to get back to the car and go home. Don't worry about him, readers – he's absolutely fine, he was just a bit tired, that's all.
So we turned round and marched pretty quickly back to the car. Past the boat graveyard ...
Past the bus stop where Matthew catches the bus after school. I thought this might make him sad because he's not keen on school, but he said he likes the bus stop because it means school's finished for the day and he knows he'll be home in twenty minutes.
Perspective is weird on the prom – our car was parked right at the end of this strip, at the top left where the road disappears. In one way, it doesn't look that far, but at the same time, it sort of does. It's about a mile anyway.
I couldn't put this one in a sunset competition because a) the sun's not in it and b) it's blurry as owt. But there are two people fishing there, can you see? I can't imagine they caught much in that very shallow water that I have never seen a fish in.
Almost back already. I could quite happily have walked right to the other end of the prom this evening, which is three miles away, but as my friend Sarah-Jane always used to say, you should always walk at the pace of the smallest soldier. I suppose soon enough I'll be the smallest soldier.
We stayed alert, gov'nor ... we didn't see any covids.
The end. We parked next to the Venus and Cupid statue. I don't know why it's called that. Also, it's not at all accurate, is it? No human person could ever fly a child like that from a sitting position. Standing, no problem. Seated, don't be ridiculous. I'll be totally honest with you, I don't really like this statue – I think it's a bit ugly. There, I've said it! Make what you like of that.
Until tomorrow, mes petits choux-fleurs.
WQ
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