Time of the Season*

It dawned on me last week that we’re almost halfway through the year, and just three weeks away from the summer solstice. What struck me even more was that, apart from a couple of weekends away (Norwich and Ross-on-Wye), I haven’t yet had a holiday this year.

But you’ve only recently returned from a trip to China, I hear you say, and furthermore, you spent a week in Cologne, back in March. These observations are true, but in my defence, both trips were for business rather than for pleasure, and whilst there was a little free time in Germany and China, the main purpose of these trips was representing my company abroad, rather than being in those locations purely for my own pleasure.

I’m still waiting for Mrs PBT’s to decide on the cruise we’ve talked about these past couple of years, and I’ve tentatively pencilled in August. However, as I’m sure most of you are aware, when you are working you have to choose your leave so as not to clash with other people. Also, when you’re head of department, you have to ensure adequate cover for periods when your own staff are on holiday.

That’s all been taken care of, but son Matthew has to book his annual leave much further in advance. He has been off this week and, as he reminded me earlier, him and I were supposed to be going to Poland in order to attend the Wroclaw Beer Festival.

I got a little sidetracked with that one, especially with all the planning for my trip to China, but I still felt a little guilty that he’d taken a week off, at my suggestion, only for me to have done nothing to facilitate our short break to Poland.

I don’t think he was over enamoured with Wroclaw as a destination anyway, but by way of compensation I said we could have a day at the coast instead. We chose Brighton. I hadn’t set foot in the city for the best part of 30 years, and whilst Matthew has been there with his mother rather more recently, Brighton seemed a good place to visit for the sea air, fish and chips, plus the odd pub or three.

The town is also reasonably easy to get to by public transport, but not as easy as it was, back in the sixties, when there were direct trains between Tonbridge and Brighton. That all ceased with the severance of the line at Uckfield followed, nearly 20 years later, by the closure of the line between Tunbridge Wells and Eridge.

I didn’t want to drive, for obvious reasons, which left the  option of the fast  buses operated by Brighton and Hove Transport, between Tunbridge Wells and Brighton. In the end though, we decided to travel cross country, by train, with the choice of either the route via Redhill or, the seaside option via St Leonard’s. In the end, we travelled out by the former route, and returned via the latter, but that’s another story.

I had another reason for wanting to spend some time with my son, and that was to give him a little moral support. In a nutshell he’s had a spot of girlfriend trouble, and also feels that he’s been passed over a couple of times, for promotion at work.

In the past we’ve gone away to favourite beery cities such as Munich or Prague, but  as I said earlier my mind has been on other things; including trying to "Brexit-proof" our business. There’s also Mrs PBT’s to consider. Last year’s close brush with death has left her still unable to walk very far, and also knocked her confidence as well, so whilst she’s perfectly able to get a taxi if she wants to pop into the town, I’m still reluctant to leave her on her own without either Matthew or I being present to drive her around.

So Brighton it was and on a bright and sunny Thursday morning, we set off by train for the seaside. I’ll recount what we got up to, and what we saw, in the next post, but suffice to say we had what Wallace & Gromit would call “A Grand Day Out.” 

* Time of the Season.