Tuesday, 28 July 2009

One of Those (Excellent) Days

Our first mini-excursion, of our excellently organised – and formatted – holidays, has been a very good one. Well it is actually still to expire, a bad back/muscle spasm has put back our return home by at least 24 hours, and has meant we have had to cancel our attendance at a local outing organised by some of the parents of Max’s nursery. But we have had a great time here, and our Excel spreadsheet can cope.

The folks’ caravan, sited overlooking one of the beautiful bays of the Llyn peninsula, is always good value for money, especially for me, as I do not spend a lot with the grandparents around.

Surprisingly there have not been a great number of children on the site, so myself, and my parents have been in much higher demand from Junior, and that has been great.

It has not been without its little hitches, there have been a few child toilet failures, and then there is the aforementioned back issue, but overall it has been massive fun, and yesterday was just one of those magical days.

When checking the Met Office for weather reports the night before, it looked like we had to plan for a rainy day, not a problem, and it is better to be prepared, as there would be a lot of holiday makers in the same situation.

I have been pushing one of my favourite visits, from my own childhood holidays here, a visit to Electric Mountain. Very suitable for a day of precipitation.

It was actually just called Dinorwig Power Station back then, which is simply what it was, and still is. A hydro-electric power station, used as an auxiliary supply at short notice (10 seconds if memory serves me right).

The exciting part, for me, was that it was a bit James Bond, a hollowed out mountain, using water, lakes of it, to drive six huge turbines, each producing extra power for the grid at peak times.

My selling of this place has thus far been ineffective on my four-year-old, and I suppose I was a little older when we went. Instead he had identified the butterfly farm on Anglesey as his rainy day option.

Neither of us needed to have bothered, as the only thing you can rely on a weather forecast to be, is wrong. Not that we complained, waking to blue skies, warmth and moderate winds.

So instead I sold the boy on another unchartered favourite of mine.


Max was not entirely convinced, but as the Go-Karting place is a multi-purpose centre that also has Ten Pin Bowling, soft-play, archery, quad bikes and some tame electric children’s vehicles, the possible alternatives to my suggestion were enough to get the nod and us on our way.

When we got there the petrol powered machines were noisily racing around. It had been a while since I had been to a race track of this kind, and I had forgotten how fast these things can look, particularly to someone who has never actually been in one.

I walked my son over to where the specially adapted double versions were. His initial reaction was negative, instead suggesting he wanted to go bowling inside. But after observing for a short while – the karts flying round, and other youngsters in the queue – he decided he would be my co-driver.

After signing our lives away, we got overalls and helmets on and headed for the track. We had six minutes waiting, and I spent the time reassuring my son, and devising a system for him to tell me he was happy over the very loud engine and our necessary head, and ear, shrouds. A thumbs up signal.

I put Max in the kart, attached his seat beat, and took my own seat. This thing had two steering wheels, both able to direct it in the right, or wrong, direction.

The safety chat was effectively a warning that the double karts can go over at full pelt in tight corners, but only if you are an idiot.

Now I have been such in the past, and have come out of karts before, but I was not planning on putting my son, and sunshine, anywhere near that level of risk.

Still, we belted round, and I was delighted to see Max’s beaming smile and thumbs up confirming he was happy racing round the track, passing virtually everyone else who was on it.

It was a brilliant six minutes, and another great first. An activity I hope we can continue to do into our futures, much like I did with my dad.

Afterwards we indeed did go bowling, followed by some free soft-play for the lad while the adults had a hot drink. I did have a short spell messing with my son, throwing him in the ball pit, which I must add, is not a great idea when you are trying to give him the hurry up.

You know that idiot thing?

We then headed to a very popular sea-side café, parking right outside, getting a prime terrace table, excellent service and hit-the-spot food.

Afterwards sauntering passed a picturesque life boat station for a lovely traditional ice cream, which we all finished on the beach.

We swapped beaches for the one at the foot of the grandparents’ caravan site. The wind had got up, but we still also swapped trousers for shorts, and went into a very rough sea for a paddle.

A paddle that was more jumping over, or through waves. Max proving he is not the World’s best wave dodger, nor am I the best at uploading pictures to Twitpic.

Absolutely brilliant fun though, right through the après shower we shared, and the telling off we got from Grandma for depositing the vast majority of the beach into her shower tray.

Hi five.

The Twenty20 cricket quarter finals were on, and as I am going to the finals day with my dad and a few friends, these were essential research.

Our enchiladas and garlic bread dinner was an excellent accompaniment.

We just had one of those wonderful days.



Not a soccer mom said...

What a great great holiday!
going to go have enchiladas for dinner now...

Debbie said...

sounds like a great holiday!!:)

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