Blackpool.
Blackpool is ace.
You might already know that I think this.
It is just as ace as it ever was.
We are parked in the street next to the Hilton, which is where my father is staying. He waved to us from his window this morning. He had had a bacon and egg breakfast and we were still in bed. We waved back and got up hastily.
We had to go and empty the dogs first, and it was brilliant, exactly the sort of day for which Northern seasides are famous. The skies were grey, and the wind whipped along the sea front, and the sea crashed and roared against the promenade, with white-topped waves rolling and rising and exploding into foam. I love the sea when it is like this, and just a bit scary in an armchair-comfortable sort of way, just enough to remind you how terrifically brave the lifeboat crews are.
When we came back we had a thoughtful cup of coffee all together in the camper, and considered what would be a productive way to spend the day.
We got on a tram and went to the Star Trek exhibition.
The Star Trek exhibition is staffed by the friendliest, most enthusiastic youths I have ever come across anywhere. We could barely get in through the doors because the chap on the desk was so busy telling us interesting facts about Star Trek.
I have not kept up with the Star Trek adventures and was intrigued to discover that Captain Kirk is now a girl. I have seen the series, and one of the films, where Mr. Spock turns up as a pensioner, but had no idea that there were more.
We wandered through with pensive attention, looking at genuine real costumes and props from the series, one or two of which I remember having really seen really on television being worn by real Klingons.
Then we stood on the transporter and had our photographs taken by a Helpful Youth being beamed up, and sat on a mock up of the deck and had our photographs taken by a Helpful Youth pretending to be Captain Kirk and the crew, and then as a final adventure, at the end there was a Star Trek Virtual Reality game. Mark and I did not do this because I know that Virtual Reality makes me feel mildly unwell, and Mark has had enough of it when he has played with Oliver. My dad, however, who has not kept up with gaming technology, had a go, encouraged by a Helpful Youth, and was completely entranced.
We ambled out into the daylight feeling very satisfied with life, and went in search of lunch.
Because it is Blackpool we had bacon sandwiches and chips with glasses of wine.
We walked back through a little market selling clothes which had been helpfully labelled for the less perceptive consumer. There were Very Large Vests, and Popular Stripy Shirts, although I thought that the Trades Descriptions might have had something to say about the latter.
We had a refreshing snooze before dinner.
We had cheese and crackers for dinner in the camper van, and a last drive along the front to look at the Illuminations before bed. This was splendid, I like the Illuminations very much. They are best on nights like this, when the sea is dark and crashing and ominous in the background, and the lights stretch bravely along the front, vivid and cheerful in the face of the black unknown beyond.
We went for a blustery dog-emptying walk along the promenade, and we are in bed. The wind is swirling around us, rocking the van and the rain is crashing on the windows.
We are warm and dry and safe and happy in our bright little nest.
I love Blackpool.
