Day 3 not another English Breakfast, enough already !!!

Yes given we are in a hotel we get breakfast again then off to see my other daughter Katrina. Only slightly early to invade her space being that it is only 10 am. Spend an hour or so catching up then on at my sisters insistence to find a “Poundstretcher”. (99 cent store) where it is believed bargains abound. Not so sure myself however 3 tablets of Pears soap for a pound looks like a good deal, unfortunately I am not in need right now (I am collecting hotel toiletries and am good for a week or so).

Whilst Jo ransacks the place for kids stuff for her own grandchildren I wander around the shopping precinct. We are in Swinton and the place looks a little sad. I have a theory about these strip malls, if there are more than 3 charity shops then the whole place is on the decline. There are 5 that I pass which says a lot about the place. Every shop seems to be selling 2 for 1 or buy 1 get 1 free. Is nothing normal in England anymore?.

I pop into “Greggs” the Pasties and Pie shop where in my youth I used to acquire cheese pasties which were so hot you could take the skin off the roof of your mouth. I fell for it every time straight in and Ahhhhhh. Probably not allowed to happen now even McDonalds has to mark coffee cups stating contents may be hot, “quell surpris”. Anyway I am on the hunt for cakes as we are going to stop off at a cousin of ours close by.

I finally get Jo out of the shop and as we return to the car I wonder where we are going to cram all the bags? They all end up squashed into the back and with a firm slam of the boot (Trunk) lid we are off again. Elizabeth is waiting with tea and there is only a small dispute over who gets which cake, lucky I had bought a spare one so everyone ends up happy. I saw Elizabeth last November but Jo maybe has not seen her for 15 years or so. Quite a long time so pictures taken along with tea and the cakes of course and we are once again on the road. Liz lives on the housing estate I grew up on and it all looks so much smaller than I remember. I did move when I was 11 so maybe I was still small and it was big then.

We are on route to Conway about 70 miles away in North Wales. Now you should know I took the family on holiday there one year, yes only 70 miles from home and it was an adventure I can tell you. This was the days before Motorways (Freeways) so it took half a day to get there with all the traffic lights and roundabouts. These days it takes 1 hour 30 minutes and it is a breeze. A vivid memory I have of the place was taking the kids to a circus. “Circus Apollo” it was called and it was a travelling affair. We bought tickets from this young girl in the ticket booth who later appeared as the female bareback horse rider, later as the tightrope walker, juggler and trapeze artist. She may well have sold us refreshments as well think we had stopped playing “Where’s Wally” by then. The thing is although she kept changing her costumes and hair style she continued to wear the fishnet tights with holes in the back (it was a bit of a giveaway). I only have to mention the words Circus Apollo to my girls to have them burst out laughing (Berni try it next time you see them).

We arrive at Bryn Morfa where Johns caravan is and soon have ourselves settled in. Jo wants to find some “Gram Flour” so we need to find supermarket but first we need to find Auntie Zita. She has already left a not at the caravan asking if we had arrived. So of we pop, it’s not far to her house and when we arrive there is another note on the door saying it is open and she is in the back garden.

We enter and make our way through to what is a small but refulgent (not sure that is the right word but I have always wanted to use it) garden. It is not big but it is packed with plants and flowers far too many to list but the Clematis and the Japanese maple were stunning. Not sure if I mentioned but Zita is 79 and lives alone, smokes roll up cigarettes, plays 3 holes of golf every morning and thinks nothing of travelling around Europe in her little car. All credit to her and I can only hope to emulate he active lifestyle as I progress.

Hearing about the Gram Flour she decides to take us on an expedition to find some. We pass through llandudno (pronounced Khlandundo its Welsh and they are funny about that sort of thing). It is one of those archetypical seaside resorts. Big 4 story guest houses in a terrace style block all along the promenade. It is probably used extensively for period films and looks as if it has not changed for 100 years. Now did you know the Alice (Liddell) who was the inspiration for “Alice in Wonderland” lived here. There are violent arguments both for and against this theory (not a lot of people know that).

After an all too brief glimpse of the town we trek through both Tesco’s and Sainsbury’s to get some provisions including my sisters item ( she says it is for Bhajji’s) and some odds and ends (inc pork pie).

Back at Zita’s she insists we stay for dinner which she also insists on making, we dine in the garden with the sun drifting off into the west over the shore, all in all somewhat idyllic. Zita is the family archivist and has traced my mother’s and the whole of the matriarchal side of the family. There are pictures and facts regarding people I have not knowledge of which trip of her tongue at the drop of a hat. Now sure she has got as far back as “William the conqueror” yet but she must be close by now. All this whilst fascinating is also somewhat frightening.

We retire when it gets dark, glad that we made the effort, I even helped her with some computer stuff so everyone wins. We slip back to the caravan and plan the following day. Jo has an early afternoon ferry and I need dropping off at Heathrow so probably 9 – 10 hours on the road.