Back on the taxi rank again.
I am pleased to say that I am in a much better state than I was when I wrote last night’s entry, when my eyes were stinging with sea air and tiredness so much I could hardly hold them open for long enough to write it.
We had had a marvellous time, a day completely brimming over with autumn sunshine and nice things. There can be no greater happiness than a warm night and good company and sea air and bright lights and hot doughnuts.
At the end of it the camper was warm and snug, and my bed so comfortable, and it felt so lovely to have showered away the salt and the doughnut-sticky, that I have no idea how I managed to write anything.
I am not actually sure what I did write in the end. Yesterday’s entry could easily have said absolutely anything, because I didn’t read it back before I pressed the green button, and then the battery went flat: and I didn’t dare look today, in case it was embarrassing drivel with spelling mistakes and apostrophes in all the wrong places.
Of course we were still in Blackpool when we woke up this morning, Bispham, actually, parked beside the beach where we could take the dogs to gallop about on the sand when we got up. Mark’s dog got so muddy we had to wash her before she could come back in the camper van, and Mark collected lots of nicely shaped stones that he thought he might be able to use to make moulds for soap, so I had to hold them and decide which ones felt like a nice shape in my hand.
We thought we might swim again, but when it came down to it we were too lazy and comfortable, so we didn’t. Instead we had a cup of coffee and some chocolate and nut biscuits with my father before he had to set off, and listened to lots of stories about long-dead family, which were absolutely fascinating.
There seem to have been a lot of very determined women in my family, if there were any men they don’t feature much as they seem to have spent all their time either going off to war or dying unreasonably early, or being otherwise occupied, and the women have created a history without them. They sounded as though they were a lot to live up to, and it was pleasing to reflect that even if I have not exactly followed in their footsteps I have produced some bloody-minded daughters who will not let the side down.
After he had gone we went into Blackpool to wander about looking at things. There are lots of interesting things in Blackpool, we found a small Oriental grocer where we bought lots of spices and oils, which will come in handy when eventually we get round to winter and to cooking again, and finished up at a tiny Italian restaurant in the wonderful square at the back of the church, where we sat outside in glorious sunshine and watched the fountains and had pizza and olives and an excellent Merlot that we liked so much we bought a bottle from the restaurant owner to take home with us.
It was a splendid afternoon. We had intended to set off back to Windermere when we got back to the camper van, but after we had let the dogs out and milled about for a few minutes, somehow we both fell fast asleep, perhaps because of the warmth and the happiness, and also being a bit drunk and full of pizza.
When we woke up the parking ticket had run out, and evening was approaching and we were supposed to be at work. We drove slowly home through the sunset, along winding country lanes back to the farm, casting a long shadow beside us, and looking at the sheep silhouetted against the sky, and the trees, all turning to gold in the dusk.
We unloaded the van and went to work, it will be a late one tonight.
What a good job we have had a sleep already.
