Didn't we have a lovely time........

.........the day we went to Bangor.

My couple of days away in North Wales ended with a journey back along the coast making brief pitstops at Bangor and Conwy.

I can't believe it is 14 years since I was last in Bangor and 16 years since I graduated from university there. I loved my time living between the sea and the mountains and miss waking up to the sound of seagulls and the smell of the salty sea air. I am disappointed with myself for not returning for so long.

This time it really was a flying visit and motivated mainly by nostalgia, so our walk round the town took me past my old haunts, with a few sneaky, stalker-style photos taken of my student houses.
First stop was at my student residence, Y Garth.

Y Garth- now back to being a guest house

I spent my first year of university living here with an assortment of colourful characters. We were not overly popular with Vera, our kindly accommodation officer. Having all our utility bills included within our monthly rent, we were more than happy to have the heating and hot water on 24 hours a day. When we had run up quite a large bill, a lock was put on the box covering the heating controls- this didn't last for long and we were soon back to having it on constantly. Vera also accused us of removing both the stair carpet and the stained glass from the window by our front door, and of causing damage to the shed roof by sunbathing on it! Why would we? We were innocent of all these crimes. However, we were guilty of breaking my bedroom door (my room-mate and I managed to lock ourselves out one night after a little too much to drink and one of our friendly housemates helped us to get back in again!). Vera never discovered this as we very cunningly mended the front of the door and plastered over the back with posters; I am sure we were cursed once it was discovered. I also seem to recollect that Vera never noticed on any of her visits the collection of road signs and traffic cones we had adorning our entrance area!
There were twelve of us living at Y Garth and, although I am still in touch with a couple, I often wonder what happened to the rest. Where is Mark, the Yorkshire lad who used to walk out of the room covering his eyes whenever a Tampax advert came on the television? And what about David who I can still see now standing on a chair in the middle of the lounge singing and dancing to Abba's 'Dancing Queen' enrobed in the velvet curtains from his bedroom window! Also, Magnus, the quiet Swede who, when living with us the following year went a little strange after staying up all night every night playing computer games.
I have hugely fond memories of living at Y Garth and standing outside after so many years did seem very strange; being a guest house now it was a little bit tempting to go in for a quick nose, but I think I would rather remember it in its true squalor of 1993!
Onwards from Y Garth, and we walked down towards Bangor Pier. This took us past one of my old haunts, the Tap and Spile pub. When we first arrived in Bangor, this pub was called the Garth Hotel and all our post used to get mistakenly delivered there which meant that each day one of us had to walk down to collect it. Not long after it was refurbished and became the Tap and Spile, and it is still there now, though looking a little run-down. I remember the landlord chatting to us one night and telling us about the number of glasses that got stolen each week; how we managed to keep our faces straight knowing that we had a nice cupboard of Tap and Spile glasses at  our house I do not know!
Very often when we left the pub we used to walk across the road down to the edge of the Straits. On one occasion some of the lads thought it would be clever, as the tide was out, to try to wade across to some moored boats. Probably not one of the most sensible things to do when you've had a couple to drink. I can't remember how far they got but at least they came back alive.
Walking along Bangor Pier, I was reminded of just how windy it always is! Even on the sunniest days with very little breeze, it is always blowing a gale by the time you are half way down the pier. This time the weather was just about holding up in Bangor, but looking back inland towards the mountains, there were storm clouds galore. The views across the Straits to Anglesey were as beautiful as ever and despite the cloud coverage we had views out to Llandudno.

Looking down the Straits towards Beaumaris and Llandudno 

Looking back along the pier to the town and the mountains beyond

Back on our whistle stop tour and it was a wander towards the bottom end of the town and my student house for my second and third years, 19 Friars Road.

Felt a bit like a stalker taking this one!

I moved here with some friends from Y Garth and shared with a couple of Goths who were already living there. It was great living at Friars Road. It was small, with a dingy lounge (our sofa, which was probably about seventh-hand, was kindly collected for us by a bus-dwelling hippy who travelled with it protruding quite some distance out of the back of his uninsured tiny car, affectionately called the Rollerskate), had little downstairs ventilation and was constantly filled with smoke of a suspicious kind, but it was home for two years. It was also home to two rats, a tarantula, a sherry-drinking guinea pig, a hamster and a tank of crickets (which periodically escaped and could be heard chirruping annoyingly around the house). I think we also had a mouse or two but that wasn't intentional.
Friars Road had everything a student might require right on the doorstep. A pub, a takeaway, an off-licence and Kwik Save (which always had a plentiful stock of 97p-a-bottle Chateau Manville for all your pre-night out drinking needs). I was glad to see that these were all still present, with the exception of Kwik Save, which now seems to have turned into a children's indoor play area- maybe not so useful for the majority of students.
Walking back up though the town, I noted a lot of empty shops and none more upsetting than Cob Records. I may not have been the biggest buyer of records whilst at university, but Cob was a fantastic independent record shop which kick-started my vinyl-buying. HMV now has a prominent place in the centre of town, just to rub salt into wounds. What else has changed? The Deiniol Shopping Centre has had a facelift and there is now a large Debenhams and even a Marks and Spencer, and the National Milk Bars coffee shops that we used to frequent have been replaced by the likes of Costa Coffee.
Many of the pubs in town have changed since I was a student, some have gone completely, but the Waterloo still retains its name. We used to go there to the weekly pub quiz; not only were we quite successful at the quiz, we also got fed chip butties for free! After winning on a number of consecutive weeks though, they stopped giving us a prize- I think someone was a little upset with us! Not very sporting if you ask me.
Last port of call before returning to the car was the Octagon night club. I am proud to say that, not being part of the white stiletto brigade, I only went there twice in the whole of my time at university. It was a cattle market. It did however, have the most bizarre light show at 9pm each night when an octopus-shaped lighting rig flashed and vibrated before descending over the dance floor. Only in Bangor.... The Octagon's only redeeming feature was that, owing to local licensing laws, it closed at midnight!
My desire for nostalgia suitably satiated, our next port of call was Conwy. My previous visit here whilst at university is marked by my crawling on hands and knees along the town walls; I've never been good with heights. Not one to be beaten, I was up for a second attempt, but mum wimped out well before me so we only managed the first 50 yards! Instead we went for something a little lower and had a nose inside the Smallest House in Great Britain. It really is tiny- hard to believe that it's last inhabitant was over 6 feet tall.

I have now made a deal with myself that I won't leave it so long again between visits to Wales. Perhaps next time I visit  I will stay at Y Garth guest house! Or maybe not.
A few photos from Bangor and Conwy are here.

Croeso i Gymri

I've just spent a a couple of days in Wales. Last year the reason for my return was for our sponsored climb of Snowdon. This time it was a little more relaxing, though not much drier! 

We stayed in Beddgelert where I spent most of my childhood holidays. It is one of my favourite places- in the heart of the mountains of Snowdonia but within twenty minutes' drive of the sea. I could quite happily wake up to views like this each morning.

We remained in the village on the day we arrived and had our customary stroll down to Gelert's Grave (for those who do not know the story of poor old Gelert the dog, click here) and then walked along the river and down the Aberglaslyn Pass. There's no walking through the tunnels anymore since the reopening of the stretch of the Welsh Highland Railway that runs between Caernarfon and Porthmadog, so the route now follows the slightly more rocky Fisherman's Path. It is a beautiful stretch of the Glaslyn although on this occasion the water wasn't tumbling down over the rocks quite as it does after a period of heavy rainfall. 

Below are a couple of photos taken of the Aberglaslyn Pass, the rest are here, and more photos from my previous visit to Beddgelert are here.

The next day saw us visiting Portmeirion, the coastal village created by Clough Williams-Ellis in the style of an Italian village. The village is surrounded by 70 acres of woodlands and there are woodland and coastal walks that could easily keep you busy for a couple of days. Portmeirion is famously known for being the location of 'The Village' in the 1960s television show 'The Prisoner', and the gift shops have certainly not missed any opportunities here for the selling of merchandise! I didn't realise that Portmeirion was also one of the main locations for the shooting of Brit-Pop band Supergrass' video 'Alright'.

I first visited Portmeirion as a child probably (cough) around 25 years ago. I can distinctly remember spending ages trying, and failing, to find the Pet Cemetery and the Ghost Garden. This time we found them! I'm still a little unsure what exactly constitutes a ghost garden, but I guess I can leave that for someone who believes in ghosts to work out.
The day was a fairly wet one (at times the land on the opposite side of the estuary was completely obliterated) and the tide was partially in while we were there, so we didn't get chance to walk along the beach, but we covered a fair amount of the woodland area and even went on the forest train! I really enjoyed the day, the serenity of our surroundings only being broken once when two fighter jets screamed overhead on low-flying practice through the mountains; it was quite funny seeing the rather alarmed looks on some people's faces who were obviously not accustomed to this happening!
Again, a couple of photos I took are below, with the rest found here.

A trip back in time

I recently paid a visit to Sudbury Hall and the Museum of Childhood with my Mum and Auntie. I grew up just outside Uttoxeter so Sudbury was frequented most school holidays. It was one of my favourite places and holds a lot of childhood memories for me, not least the mock chimney that (as a child) you could climb up and along. I got stuck in it once.....I have never been allowed to forget it. They wouldn't let me in it this time, I'm too old and too big. I suppose I could have been rebellious and tried anyway when noone was watching, but I think the embarrassment of having to be removed from it when I got wedged would have been a little too much! We were allowed to play with the old playground toys though- yoyos, diabolos, marbles (I still have my marble collection- don't tell anyone!). My Mum and Auntie were like two young children.

Walking round the museum, there were so many toys and games that I had as a child, some of which I had completely forgotten about. There was a 1980s Lundby dolls' house just like the one I had (and that my parents sold because I hardly ever played with it)- it even had little sockets in the walls into which you could plug tiny wall lights and lamps.

I was also faced by a 'Girls' World'- this was a hideous head and shoulders dummy of a girl with hair that extended out of the top of its head and an array of crayon make-up sticks.

I crazed my parents for one. I played with it a few times. I used the make-up sticks to turn my brother into Adam Ant (he was very tolerant!). I had a nightmare one night involving it trying to kill my brother and was terrified of it forever after. It had to go. Seeing it again, I understand why it gave me nightmares. However it wasn't quite as grotesque as this 'Ondine' swimming doll from the 1880s, which would be enough to give me nightmares as an adult!

You can see a few more photos from the museum here- unfortunately, they are not the best quality as most things were inside glass cabinets. We had a fun day though and for once could be forgiven for behaving like children!

A few photos from London

Here's a few photos from my trip to London. The rest are here and you can read about my visit to see the Queen here.

Houses of Parliament and Westminster Bridge

Fountain in Trafalgar Square

Countdown to the Olympics- Trafalgar Square

Nelson's Column taken from the National Gallery

Horse Guards Parade with London Eye behind

Sentry change at Horse Guards Parade

'Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub'

Squirrel in St James' Park

'Feed the birds'

Sleeping duck

There's something afoot outside Buckingham Palace....

....the Queen leaving for Chelsea Flower Show

These state carriages suddenly appeared through Wellington Arch

Bottoms up!

Swans and cygnets in Hyde Park

A little jaunt to see the Queen

I thought it about time that I posted about my recent visit to Buckingham Palace to see the Queen. Not for the Jubilee, but for one of the Queen's Garden Parties.

Earlier this year I was nominated as 'a worthy recipient of an invitation' by the Lord Lieutenant of Staffordshire (he obviously doesn't know me very well!) for my involvement in the charity for which I work (the wonderful North Staffs Special Adventure Playground). Now, the last thing I am is a royalist, and I really do not understand a lot of the pomp and circumstance that follows the Royals around. However, I did feel honoured to have been invited to an event that many people never get the opportunity to attend, so whilst all around me got excited about me seeing the Queen, I was looking forward to an experience I wouldn't have every day, and a little people-watching! Also, I was able to take my Mum with me and, although she didn't admit it, I think she was secretly quite excited about seeing the Queen!

Our afternoon began with a short taxi-ride from our hotel to Buckingham Palace. Sitting three abreast in the back of a taxi, each with a largish hat, is no mean feat- every time we stopped at traffic lights or went round a corner, hat brims were crashed together. The couple with whom we shared the taxi were from Monmouth. He used to be in the Navy and was a huge royalist- he had written numerous letters to various members of the Royal Family and had collected no fewer than 30 replies over the years. Now that's dedication for you. They no doubt were amongst those who swarmed forward to get a glimpse of the Queen on her arrival at the Garden Party an hour or so later.

When we reached Buckingham Palace we had to queue to enter.....for quite a distance....

....and then we had to show our ID before we were admitted through the gates. It was a little reminiscent of queuing to get into the student night at our local nightclub in my younger years (except that on this occasion they didn't search our bags!). Actually, I was surprised that we didn't have to undergo more security checks when we arrived, it was all fairly relaxed.

In order to reach the Palace Gardens, we had to walk through the entrance hall and a couple of reception rooms inside the Palace. It was, as expected, exceedingly grand! Unfortunately, there wasn't the time to stop and really take in our surroundings as we were still caught up in a large crowd of party-goers. On our way back out through the Palace later, I was somewhat amused when a guest was unfortunately taken unwell (I wasn't amused by this part!) and St John's Ambulance had the lady lying down on a chaise-longue behind the cordoned off area of the room (one shall not put one's feet up on the upholstery).

Once in the Palace Gardens, we were able to wander around and leave the crowds behind. Tea tents were set up and two military bands played throughout the party. Afternoon tea was 'jolly good'. A selection of sandwiches (with the crusts cut off of course), cakes and pastries were provided- it's just a shame that some people treated it a bit like a buffet at a wedding, piling their plates as high as possible as though they hadn't eaten for a month. Not terribly refined!

An hour into the afternoon and the Royal Family arrived. The guests who, up until this point, had been milling around casually, suddenly all surged forward to get as close to the Queen as possible. We stood back and watched from a distance...didn't fancy getting trampled! I believe that the Queen was accompanied by Prince Andrew and the Princess Royal, but we couldn't see that far- we just saw the Queen's head (which I see every day on stamps) and the Duke of Edinburgh's head!

We then spent the rest of the afternoon walking round the gardens which was very pleasant. It was at this point that I realised that people were not exactly following the 'no photography is allowed within the Palace grounds' rule. Mobile phones were being whipped out left, right and centre to take photographs. Now, I am not usually one for breaking rules in places where I feel I may get into trouble, so I was a little reticent about taking photos myself. It would have been Murphy's Law that everyone else would get away with it, but I would be the one person wrestled to the ground by an armed security guard for daring to break a rule! In the end though, people were being so obvious about doing it, in areas where they would be clearly seen by security, that I thought I might as well go for it too. So, rule broken at Buckingham Palace and I came away with a few (maybe hastily taken) shots of my time at the Royal Garden Party.

Three hours after arriving, the afternoon drew to a close and then came the challenge of finding a taxi back to the hotel. Not easy. The road directly outside Buckingham Palace was closed off to traffic as a result of all the construction work that was taking place ready for the Jubilee celebrations, and taxis didn't seem to want to be flagged down at any point on the route back. So, we had to walk. It wasn't a huge distance, but after an afternoon in high heels it wasn't good. I ended up walking back without my shoes on! My feet suffered for days afterwards.

So, what have I come away with from my trip to Buckingham Palace?

1. I still do not like cucumber sandwiches
2. People will break rules anywhere
3. You can't get a taxi in London
4. Always buy Marks and Spencer's tights...they didn't ladder once despite walking a mile along London streets in them without any shoes
5. It costs an arm and a leg to go (outfit, hat, hotel, train, food, etc etc)

It was definitely an experience and one I am glad to have had, I did enjoy my day. I wish my Nana had been able to come with me though, she would have been in her element and would probably have appreciated the  occasion far more than I ever could (she absolutely loved the Queen).
Below are a couple more photos from my afternoon- the rest are here, along with some others from our meanderings around London.

The Yeomen of  the Guard 

I love this man's outfit!

Story of a garden fork

This is not just some ordinary garden fork. This is a garden fork with a history. This is a garden fork with blood on its hands (or prongs). This is a garden fork which caused the infamous words "I warned you not to do that" to be uttered. This is the garden fork that made my wellies leak when paddling in the sea and which prevented the 53rd argument with Sharon Buckley over which of us was going to wear the high-heeled shoes from the school dressing-up box.

I was six. The fork was considerably older with prongs that had been worn over the years to very sharp points. My dad was collecting up leaves and pitch-forking them into a wheelbarrow with a nice new, less lethal fork. I was 'helping'. Where it all went wrong was when I started walking along prodding the fork into the ground on each step. "Don't do that, you will end up putting it through your foot", my dad warned on more than one occasion. So, no need to say what happened next. I personally would say it wasn't my fault for being disobedient, but my dad's fault for letting me use a tool not designed for use by a six year old....but then I would say that.

I ended up with a hole straight through my foot (hence not wanting to fight over the high-heeled shoes- it hurt too much), a pair of leaky wellies and a story that gets retold every time I do First Aid training and the topic moves on to puncture wounds.

The fork has been left in the garden to this day to serve as a reminder to me what happens when I don't listen to what my dad says....I have never disobeyed him since.