Saturday daytime was quite lazy. I pottered about scanning cards and coding while Jane did things various too. We visited her Mum in the afternoon, though I waited in the car. Introducing a cold into an old people's home is not a good idea. While I was waiting I talked to one of the other visitors. She said that they'd had a lot of deaths in the home recently and that many of the staff were upset. I'm not surprised; it must be difficult to care for some of these sweet old ladies just to see them fade away so quickly.
In the evening, after much messing about, we made our way to Stanley's Cask for a couple of beers before our meal. The Cask was really quiet, I think we'd hit the lull between the early doors and the evening drinkers.
When we arrived at the restaurant it was heaving. It's called Magic Spices because the owners come from a circus family. It was like a circus in the restaurant. Waiters all over the place delivering up trays of food and bottles of wine. The couple to my right were sitting next to a radiator. As we arrived the woman was laying into her partner: "Ask them to turn the radiator off now". The room was hot. As Jane is very suseptible to this she soon had her fan out*. This drew the attention of the owner who came over and turned the radiator off and the air conditioning on. Why they thought it would be a good idea to have the heating on with a full restaurant I've no idea.
Eventually the woman next to us calmed down and we ended up chatting to them. What surprised Jane was that the man, who had also been complaining about the heat, only took his pullover off after being there for over an hour.
As they knew they were going to be busy the restaurant were serving a choice of buffets. This resulted in more food than we could easily fit on the table arriving. Small portions of three main courses, two side dishes, nann bread and rice. That was after papadoms and chutnies & a selection of starters. We washed it all down with two bottles of the house plonk.
On Sunday we walked off some of the previous evening. Our route took us down through Vale Park, along the promenade and on to the sands. It's quite surprising to see that the sand is clean, dry and light again. I remember it being like this when I was a child. Of recent times it has always been wet and dirty. Whoever designed the groynes that were placed along the river in the late seventies and early eighties did a good job. The sand is slowly building into a new, higher beach.
Our walk took us out to the edge of the river. The beach to the right of the fort is protected by two groynes at right angles to each other. Beyond them, at the waters edge, were about a dozen fishermen. I don't think I've every been out to the river's edge at low tide. The danger of being stranded on a sand bank was always something that was drilled into me as I grew up. Now that the beach is higher there is far less chance of the river sweeping in behind, cutting off access to land.
We then walked on to the lighthouse, which is behind the fort. It's one of the New Brighton's earliest buildings having been built around the same time as the fort, in the early 1800s. Like the river's edge, I'd never been that close to the lighthouse before. It has sat quietly overlooking the river all my life and I've all but ignored it. Standing at its base and looking up to the blue sky brought home how big it is. It must have been quite an achievement 200 years ago. I wish I'd taken my carmera with me.
From the lighthouse we walked back to the promenade, bought ice-creams and sat in one of the shelters. The sunshine was glorious. Ed and Lyn appeared soon after we'd sat down; they were on their way to the pub via a walk along the prom.
We walked home along the promenade and part of the beach.
The rest of the day we spent not doing very much (and we had sausages for tea).
* No jokes, please.