Two days in Tenby - a lazy but lovely weekend in Pembrokeshire

This weekend Brad whisked me off to Pembrokeshire, Wales and I say whisked quite literally. After a late night at my work summer party and Brad at the Wimbledon Dogs, we woke to the sun streaming in our window before 7am and before I knew it we were in the car, with Brad having packed the night before, and when I woke up next I was crossing the bridge into Wales! While it might have felt a little different for Brad, I very much felt as if I had been teleported to the countryside – it’s a great way to travel!





It was a weekend of big news sadly, and work was abuzz on Friday evening as news came in about the terrorist attacks in Norway. It is a very sobering thought given Norway is so very close – particularly when you consider we were right where the attacks happened just a few weeks ago. There is no logic to why it happened this weekend and not then, but I guess you would be driven crazy if you haunted yourself with these thoughts. Needless to say, it is incredibly sad and my Norwegian colleagues are just so shocked by it all. But on to more brighter things…

Brad had the weekend all sorted and we camped out at a local Tenby camping ground which was right on the great Coastal path walk, meaning it was just a beautiful 10 minute walk to Tenby, which is perhaps one of the sweetest and most beautiful places we have been to yet and not at all what you would expect. Pastel coloured buildings, glorious golden power sand, aquamarine waters – you’d think you were in Hawaii if it weren’t for the countless castles dottered around the coastline and background hills – so exquisite. We spent the day bush walking, taking photos, lying in the sun, walking the coastal paths to a little place called Penally and stopping every few minutes to take in the exquisite view. It was a perfect day, complete with a picnic on a private beach while we watched a fishing boat come in.






We were camping so in the absence of electricity the evening was spent people watching, before hopping into our little car cave to play Yahtzee, whilst peering out at the stars from time to time. Thanks to the rigorous exercise and fresh air which we haven’t had in over a year, we slept like logs, waking up at 9am to a bustling campsite. After packing up and stopping off at the campsite burger trailer for an egg bun for myself and a black pudding, bacon, egg and mushroom bun for Brad (!), we hit the road, keen to explore the Pembrokeshire area some more.



Wales is notoriously beautiful and full of rugged countryside, castles and green landscape, similar to New Zealand in its natural beauty, with just a thousand and one times more history! We stopped in a little place called Mounbarier to take a few snaps of the old castle, with a quick stop at Barafundle Bay which is apparently one of the most picturesque bays in England. The next stop was altogether unexpected, but when we saw a sign for a mammoth car boot sale just outside of Carmarthen, we couldn’t say no. Well actually I would have had no problem saying no, but Brad being his father’s son had turned into the showground before I even knew what was happening. Unlike the day before, the weather was a little dark and dismal so I trudged around in a hoodie (in summer can you believe, the weather in Britain is diabolical!) whilst Brad shopped up a storm. He managed to stumble across an utter gem of a find – a set of Ping golf clubs for an amazing £45. To top it off he also picked up some golf balls and a golf bag, which went nicely with his brand new Callaway driver he reluctantly admitted he’d brought a few days ago on Ebay! All wasn’t lost for me though and I managed to pick up some great books, meaning my collection of books over here it’s rivaling my collection back home!



An hour and a bit later we were on the road again, this time heading to Carreg Cennen castle, which is perhaps the most famous medieval castle in Wales, which sits atop a limestone cliff. Very pretty and to top off the Welsh weekend, we managed to stumble across a medieval festival which was taking place there. Quite cool, but I was more than a little grumpy after stepping foot in a massive cow pat (welcome to Wales – very Waikato) in my nice black loafers! I may have muttered something along the lines of ‘f-ing castles’, but I soon perked up when I was seated in the medieval tea room having a nice piece of rhubarb crumble with ice-cream, whilst sneaking bites of Brad’s scone and jam when his back was turned. A very nice setting, but something dark was plaguing me and I soon found myself pulling the fingers at a dog who was barking at me in a neighboring car, much to Brad’s shock. I just lost the rag, but I’m ashamed to admit it felt great and when all is said and done, I’d do the same thing if I ever saw that mongrel dog again.



We then began the leisurely drive home through Wales, then into England, before being greeting by glorious sun in London – rare as hens teeth!

Love to all,

Xxxx

Blackpool - "that's a penis to New Zealand"

This weekend we went to Blackpool, a seaside city on the North West coast of England, renowned for debauchery and endless stag and hen parties. Ignoring the 'what the f*** are you going there for?' comments, we set off Friday evening and arrived six and a half hours later thanks to an accident on the M40 - selfish pricks.

As I left work I was sent off with chuckles, with the most diplomatic comment being: 'Well you'll see a different side to England that's for sure.' What's more, our entire crew of Kalem, Jess and Kayla also received similar comments. What on earth where we getting ourselves in for?

Like my colleague suggested, Blackpool very much offered a different side to England and a stark contrast to London. It's quite a poor town comparatively, although the people are a lot nicer albeit a little 'rough around the edges.' We had a great time regardless and it seemed like we spent the entire weekend clutching our sides with laughter!




Blackpool is shameless in positioning itself as the classic British seaside town, complete with tacky Vegas style lights, 2 quid burger meals, endless theme parks and a nightlife that is unrivalled. The locals don't seem to care, nor do the 16 million visitors who come to Blackpool each year. After London, it is England's most visited city, although most English people I know haven't set foot there.





I feel terrible saying this but I'll just have to get it over with as there's just no positive way I can frame this... Blackpool seems to have far more share of ugly people than any other place we've been. I know it's nasty, but it's a widely accepted fact. To be honest, some people were so terrible and tacky, they actually left our entire group flabbergasted. To top it off, the party scene is ruthless with one lass stumbling past us at 3pm in a tiny mini skirt which was flying right up in the breeze, showing her pantiless backside to the world. What's worse, she didn't even make an attempt to hide her modesty. In every bar you only have to look around to see girls and boys lurching all over each other displaying heinous amounts of flesh that you'd only ever see on a beach. Kayla hit the nail on the head when she said, 'God, this place is great for my self confidence - I feel like a rockstar!'



Which is exactly what we became, looking back I displayed embarrassing levels of arrogance as I sauntered up to the bouncers, cutting huge lines and refusing to pay any door charges, all because I was from New Zealand and this was an Australian themed bar. New Zealand, I pointed out, was actually a state in Australia and it was only fair our group should be allowed free entry and to cut the line, seeing as they were milking our national identity for their branding purposes. In London I'd be told in no uncertain times to 'F*** right off you bloody sheep shagger', but here we were greeted with open arms and a friendly smile. Kalem's theory was that we were easily the five best looking people Blackpool had ever seen and were an asset to any bar! You're probably all thinking we sound like right toss pots and you'd be correct in assuming this, but I've got to say that he hit the nail on the head here!

Friday night we went out, skipped lines, and were given VIP status... That is until Brad fell off the stage after giving the locals a little show. To be fair, as we were rockstars he was only giving the locals what they wanted, but as he took a bail, the DJ quick as anything announced over the speaker, 'That's a penis to New Zealand!' Brad quickly jumped up and sheepishly returned back to the dance floor where we spent the remainder of the night re-enacting the tumble and laughing ourselves sick!

Saturday morning we were up and at Pleasure Beach before you can say 'Full English.' Well that's not strictly true as we did stuff ourselves with a Full English breakfast before we left our hotel for one of the coolest theme parks ever. I'd received expert advice from a colleague of mine who used to holiday in Blackpool, so I knew the must do rides and had put together a plan in advance. We had an absolute ball and the rides were insane! I'm not sure I'll ever be able to visit Rainbow's End again! At one point we were hurtling around a roller coaster track on a cart that seemed to keep bouncing off the tracks screaming 'how is this legal!?' Pleasure Beach is also home to Europe's tallest and steepest roller coaster, which Kalem kept reminding us as we kept ascending up the tracks!




We finished off our day with the world's best ride in the dark (fact) and got absolutely saturated. Wet and with our nerves on edge, we walked home via a fish and chip shop (Blackpool must do) and gorged ourselves on more fat and grease, as if breakfast wasn't enough. We also had another walk around the town, declining numerous offers of having our palm read, getting diamante tattoos or throwing a ball in a bucket to win a prize!



A quick two hour kip later and we were ready to experience our second night of partying in Blackpool, but not before a burger and chips of course!

Saturday night saw us skipping lines and refusing to pay door charges yet again. We had a grand old time playing ‘Spot the normal looking person’ (we didn’t as so much as see a contender), whilst dancing the night away. At the end of the evening, we were walking home when an Irish lad came running up to us, covered in blood after being in a fight, hand broken as anything, asking if we had any spare credit so he could call his girlfriend and find out where she was. After learning his name was Connor and he was 19, we decided to make sure he got home safely well and truly. We chatted to him for quite a while and I was absolutely flabbergasted at the differences between him and our wee Connor. He had been kicked out of Belfast by the gangs for dealing drugs at a price far cheaper than the drugs being offered by numerous gangs, and was told that if he were ever to return he’d be given what the Irish call a ‘six pack’, which is blatantly a shot to each of the kneecaps, wrists and elbows so every joint is shattered. The trouble in Northern Ireland seems to be so apparent at the moment and I was moved by this wee Connor, and so thankful that our Connor was in completely different circumstances. Anyway, we got him back to his girlfriend and sister safe and sound, but later saw him chasing after another guy getting himself beaten up. We chased after him and returned him once again. This time to a crying girlfriend and upset sister – it’s clear this lad has troubles. Very sad.

Sunday we were up early, once again for a full English, before we hit the road en route to Manchester where we were hoping to do a tour of Old Trafford Stadium, but instead after finding out the next tour wasn’t available for two hours, we decided to hit the road and head to Birmingham, where Cadbury World was waiting! You can only imagine my excitement!



The tour was amazing and by the end of it, I couldn’t as so much even consider another bite of chocolate as I was well and truly stuffed. The tour included endless chocolate, a tour of the factory, a wee train ride through Cadbury Land, a look at their advertising throughout the years, the history etc... We even tried our hand at writing our names in chocolate, which I was an absolute star at. I’m surprised I wasn’t asked to join the team. A highlight for me was choosing any candy we wanted, which they then poured into a cup of melted chocolate. Heaven!



All in all, it was a lovely weekend spent clutching our sides in laughter. We’d recommend anyone to head to Blackpool for a weekend, if not solely for the confidence boost! It’s a great laugh and impossible not to have a great time.

Next on the agenda is a weekend in Bournemouth, before we head to Turkey and Greece for 10 days – woop woop!

Much love x