I obviously wasn’t quite quick enough off the mark with my
previous post, as
18 minutes before I hit the
“publish” button,
Martin’s
milestone article, about having finally completed
“ticking” every pub in the
CAMRA Good Beer Guide, was there staring at me from the front page of his blog.
Talk about being overtaken by events, but at the same time congratulations for
pulling off a magnificent achievement. I'm sure he's feeling mightily relieved to be free now of the hold this completion goal had over him.
Moving swiftly on, and it’s time for a quick look back at a
few days spent in the pleasant, South Wales, seaside town of Barry, or Barry
Island if we want to be precise! Mrs PBT’s had expressed a desire to visit the
town for some time – something to do with the BBC sitcom “Gavin & Stacey,”
so on the basis of fulfilling my wife’s wishes, I agreed that we should take a
drive down to Barry Island, and check the place out, for ourselves.
Matthew came with us, as he had a week off from work, so
last
Tuesday morning, we loaded our bags into the back of the car (several bags
in
Mrs PBT’s case), and set off to
South Wales, via the
M25 and
M4 motorways.
The last time we had made that journey was to attend my aunt’s funeral, in
February 2020, just a few weeks before the
Covid restrictions were introduced
across the country. As on that previous trip, we’d booked overnight
accommodation at a
Premier Inn, but this time in
Barry Island, rather than
Llanelli.
I’ve mentioned before that
Eileen is a big fan of the
Premier Inn brand, and whilst I am somewhat ambivalent towards them, preferring
an independently owned and operated hotel, at least you know what you are
paying for. The
Barry outlet opened
10 years ago, and has
80 rooms, overlooking
the town’s waterfront. The latter is actually part of the former dock area, as the
town’s famous sandy beaches are a mile or so further south, but the waterfront
forms a pleasant backdrop to the dock area, which has been redeveloped with
some attractive, and reasonably affordable, modern housing. The only downside
for me was all rooms at this
Premier outlet, are air-conditioned and fitted
with non-opening windows.
Give me fresh air anytime, as I really am not a fan of air
con. It’s presence did little to assist marital bliss either, as
Mrs PBT’s
insisted on the room temperature being set several degrees colder than I felt comfortable with, and for it to be left running all night. We nearly fell out on the
cruise, over this issue, but at least on the ship it was possible to open the
balcony door to get some fresh air, and to escape the all-pervading icy cold
air blasting out from the vents in the cabin.
We managed to survive three nights without divorce papers
being issued, but give me an opening window any day, rather than this
artificial cooling which is not the route we should be going down, during this
period of steeply rising energy bills. I mentioned my dislike of
aircon in a
post last month, describing how it is used to excess in certain parts of the
world, but as we head into autumn, I think we can safely drop the topic, for a
while at least.
Premier Inns, usually have a
Whitbread-owned,
chain-restaurant attached – quite often a
Beefeater, and this was the case at
Barry. We ate there on the first and the last nights, visiting a nearby complex
called the
Goodsheds, that was home to a rather good craft beer bar, along with a
number of street food outlets.
More about this excellent complex in a separate
post, but the
Beefeater offered the usual chain restaurant fayre, which was
sufficient to keep the family well fed and watered. The only couple of gripes I
had, and they are very minor ones at that, related to the non-availability of
the advertised naan bread – this would have been useful to mop up the plentiful
sauce associated with the
chicken tikka curry. There was also no marmalade to
go with my toast, on the one morning I joined
Matthew for a
full English
breakfast (shouldn’t that have been,
full Welsh?). Both these shortages were
attributed to supply chain issues, which isn’t surprising given what is going
on in the world.
There was no cask of course, a situation that increasingly
seems the norm these days, but the keg
Atlantic Bay Pale proved an
acceptable alternative. It’s interesting to note that Beefeater have move away
from waiter service, asking customers instead to order and pay at the bar, for
both food and drink, although a member of the waiting staff still brings the
food across to the customer’s table. I can see where they are coming with this,
along with policy of the hotel of not cleaning and making up guests’ rooms
during stays of longer than one night, unless specifically requested. This no
doubt, is a hangover from
Covid times, but one which makes perfect sense to me,
as apart from the bins being emptied, who really needs their sheets turned down,
and the bathroom sink and shower cleaned, on a daily basis?
We visited
Barry Island pleasure beach on our first morning,
after dropping off the wheel with the damaged tyre at the local branch of
Kwik-Fit. The cause of the deflation had already been identified as a small,
crosshead screw, that had obviously been discarded by a careless contractor. As
suspected, the tyre was beyond redemption, but over the course of nearly
50
years of motoring, discarded screws have been the cause of the majority of
damaged tyres I have experienced!
With
2 hours free parking along the seafront, we had
sufficient time for a stroll along the promenade, followed by a coffee at
Marco’s
Café, the refreshment room featured in the
Gavin & Stacey sitcom. The beach
was practically deserted, despite there being plenty of people about, but with
its views across the
Bristol Channel towards the
Quantock Hills, I was left
wishing I had brought my binoculars along, and not for the only time on the
trip!
It's surprising how quickly seaside resorts change in both
feel and appearance, as soon as the schools have returned after the long summer
break. It’s as if someone has suddenly thrown a switch that suddenly changes
summer, straight into autumn, even though pupils would only have been back for
a few days. The lack of family parties does make for a less frantic and more
mellowed atmosphere, even if saying so makes me sound like the child catcher,
but on the plus side it did bring out the charm of the pleasure beach.
The funfair rides and attractions would no
doubt be opening later in the day, but the lack of noise from the latter and
the nearby amusement arcades, which were open, did allow us to sit and enjoy
the views out to sea in a tranquil setting.
Later on, after collecting the wheel with its new tyre, we
drove back towards
Barry seafront, but this time we stopped at the other side
of the promontory at
Nell’s Point, overlooking
Jackson’s Bay and the entrance
to
Barry Docks. The earlier rain showers had disappeared, which meant greatly
improved visibility out to sea. With a convenient bench to sit on, and plenty
of passing dog walkers for company, it was a nice spot to relax and just while
away the time.
Little did we know the drama that would unfold later in the
day, although as we drove towards
Cardiff Bay, the sudden and quite dramatic
crisis with the
Sovereign’s health had not reached its sad, but perhaps inimitable conclusion.
We found our way
into central
Cardiff before parking up in the Bay area, close to the
Norwegian
Church, in a setting overlooking the waterfront. A short distance to our right,
we could see the
Senedd – the strikingly modern,
Welsh Parliament building and almost
next door, the impressive, red-brick
Pierhead Building, constructed in
1897, as
the headquarters of the
Bute Dock Company.
We’d decided to take a stroll along the waterfront, but
unfortunately the weather had other ideas, because as we edged towards the
Senedd Building, the heavens opened. We’d already noticed the rain clouds,
sweeping in from the
Severn Estuary. Anticipating a real soaking, we hurried
back to the car, and it was there that
Mrs PBT’s decided she wanted to go to
somewhere that was more seaside like. I knew that the resort town of
Penarth was
only a short distance away, and I also remembered a couple of my
Welsh cousins
talking about the town.
Penarth it was then, and after taking a wrong turn and
ending up at the
Cardiff Bay Barrage, we managed to find our way to the
seafront at
Penarth.
We parked along the seafront – another enlightened place
offering free parking for two hours and ended up having coffee and cake at a
rather nice tearoom, at the shore end of the pier. You could see across the
estuary towards Weston-Super-Mare, from the observation deck at the end of the
pier, and yet again I was cursing not having brought my bino’s with me. Like Barry, the seafront at Penarth had that
“end of season” feel to it.
The coffee and cake were both good, and after walking to the
end of the pier, we drove back to
Barry, heading of the seafront for a final
look at the beach, and the chance to buy a few things for home. We ate once
again at the
Beefeater, and it was whilst eating our meal that we learned of
the sad passing of
Queen Elizabeth II. Despite being in our
mid-60’s, both
Eileen and
I have only ever known the
Queen as our head of state. I wouldn’t
say the
Queen’s death cast a shadow over the end of or mini break, but it was definitely
one of those moments where people remember where they were when they heard the
news.
Later on, whilst watching events continuing to unfold on TV,
we saw a news report from presenter,
Hywel Griffith, coming from the steps of the
Welsh
Parliament Building. It was strange to recall that just a few hours earlier, we
too had stood on those very same steps, sheltering from the rain. It was a
sobering end to our holiday.
