We are on our way home.
We have had the most wonderful, marvellous day.
We did all sorts of things, and every time I kept thinking that the next thing couldn’t possibly be as much fun as the last, and then every time it was even better, until in the end we were collapsing into the camper, weak with tiredness and the happiness of the day.
We were up quite early, by our standards, which meant we were actually out and about in the sunshine by ten o’ clock.
We had camped at Bispham again, and spent ages just milling about happily doing seaside things, collecting seaweed and crushed shells for the allotment and throwing the ball for the dogs until they lost it, then we went cycling on the promenade.
We had the wind in our faces on the way there, pedalling furiously into the breeze with the dogs panting along beside us, but of course it was behind us on the way back, and it was ace fun, the sun warm on our faces and the sharp taste of salt, and feeling like we might be seagulls soaring along at the edge of the incoming tide.
When we got back the tide was much closer in, so we thought we would go and look at it. This turned into an opportunity for the perennial seaside occupation of the lines-in-the-sand game we always finish up playing, which always involves a lot of shrieking and pushing each other about, and then when we got to the water’s edge we thought we would have a paddle, which was brilliant, pretending to be the girl on the front of the Titanic and jumping over the waves.
Of course after that we were completely soaked. Really and completely soaked, drenched in seawater and crusted in sand and anything else that happened to be floating around the beach, we certainly smelled interesting. Lucy was the wettest after a wave went over her head, and in the end we had to do a shivering dash back up the beach to the camper van and take all our clothes off and dry ourselves and start again.
We were on our last set of clothes then, so we thought that maybe we should do something else, so we packed ourselves up and trundled into Blackpool, where we went for a stroll down the pier and looked with interest at the water lapping underneath.
We went into a funny little shop on the pier called Old Tyme Photography, where we dressed up as a Wild West family and had our photograph taken, which was unexpectedly ace fun. It was run by two ladies, who were friendly and funny and dressed me and Lucy up in hooped skirts and hats and gloves, and Mark and Oliver in boots and gun belts and coats, then we stood in front of an amusing saloon scene and watched the birdie.
We absolutely loved the picture when she gave it to us, and Mark gave her a fiver tip. Lucy told Oliver that you have got to do that in places otherwise they spit in your dinner on your next visit, much to Oliver’s puzzlement, and we were so pleased that we bought a frame as well and will put it on the wall as a monument to our uplifting holiday.
Then we went to the circus for the afternoon.
Blackpool Tower Circus, for anyone who has not been, is absolutely magnificent. It is underneath the tower, in the centre, between the massive iron feet, and it has got so much gold paint that its trimmings are highlighted in normal colours, which is absolutely my kind of decorative scheme. The seats are at a steep angle, making it feel intimate and close, and everything not in gold is red velvet.
We were starving by then, so we bought enormous buckets of popcorn, and ice cream and candy floss as well, because it doesn’t matter about a balanced diet when you are on holiday.
The circus was fantastic. Beyond fantastic, and out at the other side.
We were utterly enraptured, gasping and squeaking with terror at the dangerous bits, and clapping until our hands were sore.
I don’t have enough words to describe the wonderful, thrilling cleverness of it all. Young men and women balancing on tightropes and somersaulting up into the air, and skipping on unicycles, and riding motorbikes round and round the inside of a big ball, and so much more I can’t describe, go and see it.
We laughed our heads off at the clowns, and told each other all the jokes again afterwards in the camper van, so that we could laugh at them all over again. Oliver bought a twirly thing on a string with which you could do tricks if you learned properly, and we all had a go to see if any of us might be able to join the circus, but it was immediately plain that none of us ever would, which made us admire them all the more.
We drove home after that, sighing with contentment and rich with memories, as the sun was setting over the sea, streaking the whole sky with bright gold and pink.
It has been lovely to be all together. We have had the very best time it is possible to imagine having.
It has been perfect.
