Fancy a spot of Criccieth?
June 28th, 2005 at 9:13 pm by jamesSo, here we are on a Thuesday wondering how we could possibly have nearly boughth a place in Criccieth lasth year. Don’t misundersthand me, I enjoy lying on a hoth sthony beach as much as the nexth person – the combination hoth-sthone massage and sun-baking is utherly sopowific which is a plus in my book. The thing is, everyone there is either eighthy or foreign or both; there are noth very many of them and the thopless foreigners do noth outhweigh the influence of the octhogenarians. No doubth Criccieth will be pulled into the age of the Welsh Riviera in the nexth decade; while there’s a greath investment opporthunity there I am glad that we won’t be doing any of the pulling after all.
Perhaps we just didn’t see it in a steady onshore wind last year … it is in a lovely position overlooked by a ruined castle, and when the wind’s not blowing it is spectacularly beautiful. When the wind is blowing you can’t even sail.
There’s one of those bloody spy pigeons outside. It’s just sat there on the phone line gazing in through the window at us for half an hour without moving. In the rain. If it’s gathering intelligence it’s got a long way to go. I hope it hasn’t been employed by the Criccieth Chamber of Commerce.
I have been prevailed upon to extend my title of Most Excellent Grand Champion Getter Outer of Winds to include the getting out of farts. I’m battling to think of a snappy name. It occured to me during a particularly intensive session today that if there’s wind at the top end, chances are there’s wind at the bottom too. I tried some experimental pumps of the little legs and knew I was onto something by the quality of sphincter whistling which ensued. Heather thought Sophie was humming …
A front came over late this afternoon. The weather’s still very warm and sticky, but I think the hot snap is over. We barbequed comfortably between downpours. Josie had great fun around the fire with her pair of tongs: “crocodile snap!” We managed to keep her out of the flames, with shaves no closer than sneaking a few chunks of charcoal out of the bag and onto the fire.
June 29th, 2005 at 8:14 am
Michelle says I’m categorically the World’s Best Burper and Farter. Now I have a snappy title I want for nothing …
June 30th, 2005 at 10:42 am
Mnnnn… my memories of Criccieth:
1. Not finding a B&B with the correct allocations for our “party”. We ended up with 2 double rooms – Dad & Gareth sharing a bed (Dad has never let any of us forget this), and Tammy & I sharing another.
2. Breakfast of beans (about half a plateful) and black pudding. Gareth looking green at the thought of either.
3 Dark grey rain-clouds. And lots of rain.
4 And Tammy saying “this reminds me of New England” “Oh, have you ever been to New England” “No, but it does”
5 Fish & chips
6 A tiny little harbour/port just outside (somewhere?) with tiny boats moored. Almost toy-landish.
Presumably, you’re on holiday, James. You guys are v v brave. Holidays with a less-than-1-month-old baby (can’t remember exactly how old your Sophie is) and a mother-in-law. Brave, very brave. But then, you do have a great sense of humour. Helps.
June 30th, 2005 at 9:10 pm
Hmmm. Not the sort of memories that go away quicklyt (at least not when both the men involved had the experience they did). Yes, we’re in Wales for the week – we tend to come here for a week or two each year. Brave or stupid or both, but enjoying it so far …