Had my ice cream... And ate it.

It would seem I had the best of both worlds on Monday, not only did I gain a good lie in, but I also had an impromptu trip to the beach. It started off like any other day at home, being bored and sitting around advertising this effect. But it was the mother that voiced her pococurantism for the time off the most, as she had managed all her weekend tasks already.

So I said the first thing that came into my head, which was... Lets go to Weston-Super-Mare. Not the most wonderful place in the world, full of pregnant 15 year olds, old women and pie and mash shops. In fact let me give you an idea of the beach at Weston.

You have (when the tide is out) a good 1/4 mile of sand reaching out into the Bristol Channel, followed by another 1/2 mile of silt and mud, and then finally around 1 mile out is the sea. So they best beach destination is isn't. It has the alternative title of Super-Mud in recognition of its most bountiful resource.

But I digress... We parked at the southern end of the beach on the beach itself. It marks the end of the Award Winning Section of beach which stretches from the north of Weston to where we were. Around a mile away was the sea the pier Weston's most famous attraction. We set off at a good pace, dodging the people heading back to their cars, over taking grannies, jumping over kids who wanted ice cream but couldn't and were having tantrums and weaving our way around the entire contents of the underage maternity hospital.

It was, it has to be said a very pleasant walk, and the extra 1/2 mile walking along the pier afterwards must have done us some good. We stopped at the end of the pier to use the facilities, and watch all the people feeding coin after coin into the money hungry amusements.
Back at the entrance to the pier are more mini arcades and some ice cream sellers, we indulged ourselves with a 99 each... Costing us £1.50 each.

The walk back was a little dogged by the fact that, a wind had grown and we were sand blasted all the way along the promenade back to the car. It being a bank holiday all the townies from up north were evacuating Cornwall, and despite using alternative routes it still took us nearly three times as long on the way back as it did on the way there.
But it was a nice day, from my memories of childhood there seemed to be just as little sea as ever, the amusements were just as noisy as ever and the prices were as high as ever.