I am not entirely sure that I ought to write anything at all tonight.
The thing is, if the children read this they will know that we have gone off and had an ace time in Blackpool without them.
Lucy is revising for tests prior to GCSEs and Oliver is in the thick of settling back in to bedtimes and rugby and showers.
Instead of rushing home to join them in hard labour we spent a day in Blackpool instead, and now I am wallowing in guilt, which, I must observe, did not stop me doing a single thing.
My mother has gone off to do something civilised and feminine in Oxford with some of her old friends, so my father has taken advantage of her absence to visit Blackpool. My mother is not a great admirer of Blackpool. Actually she can’t see at all what all of the rest of us like so much about it, and would not be seen dead posing for beachfront photographs in ridiculous hats.
We all stayed at the Hilton last night, and of course got up to their most satisfactory and substantial version of breakfast. That it to say, it is actually a buffet, so perhaps it didn’t need to be quite as substantial as ours turned out to be, mine had hot buttered chocolate brioche and ham and salad and cheese in it, followed by a plate heaped with hash browns and bacon and sausages and scrambled eggs.
We had to sit quietly for a little while over coffee afterwards, thoughtfully contemplating the day ahead and being considerate of our digestive systems, which are unaccustomed to such enthusiastic overwork at that time of day, and were beginning to gurgle a bit.
In time, of course, everything settled into its rightful place, and we trundled out to explore Blackpool, not that it needed much exploring, regular readers will know that we are veterans of the Blackpool Experience and have long ago worked out where all the best doughnut stands are.
We went along the Central Pier, where Number Two Daughter joined us. She had intended to come along very much earlier, but had been stuck in the most ghastly two hour traffic jam, caused by inconsiderate Cumbrian farmers thoughtlessly holding the County Show on a show ground with inadequate access provision.
She was growly and tired when she finally arrived, so we went for a cup of coffee and decided to do the 4D Tower Eye Experience, which involves watching a 3D film whilst getting occasionally squirted with water, before we went up the tower.
I was truly delighted to note on the way up that one of our very own taxi drivers had his photograph exhibited there. In fact it was taken in 1963 so he was barely recognisable, but nevertheless it was undoubtedly him, we took photographs of his photograph and squeaked excitedly for the benefit of all gathered crowds that we really knew him, the famous person on the donkey in the photograph.
The Tower itself was ace. It was whistling-gale windy, roaring around our heads and knocking us excitingly off balance. Mark went and stood on the Skywalk, which is a glass floor hundreds of feet above the street. None of the rest of us were keen, it is irrationally alarming, so he jumped up and down on it to illustrate its safety. This upset not only us but a couple of other people standing nearby, and made him laugh a great deal.
We had dinner in Harry Ramsden’s World Famous Fish And Chip Shop, which was rather surprisingly civilised, serving glasses of wine and entirely pleasant dinner. I had prawns, but gave up on them after the first few due to urgent complaints coming from my digestion: and had to stick to the salad. I must tell you that this was excellent, covered in some very nice dressing designed to ensure the maintenance of a decent supply of body fat.
After that Number Two Daughter had to go, because of work, and we went to the circus, because I like it, and thought perhaps my father might enjoy it as well, which he did.
I have told you about the circus before, so I won’t go into details about knife throwers and strongmen again: but of course it was brilliant.
Afterwards we went for a paddle, and then hot chocolate and home, where the dogs threw themselves upon us with little squeaks of delight.
We will have to go to work tomorrow.
