We, that is the student and I have a grand tradition of weekends away. By ourselves time spent wandering about Brittany hunting the good time down. With lots of work on the horizon we decided to take the chance and run this weekend. Of course with kids on half term the usual running round after school buses and mad dash to the ferry could be avoided. Well no after a few bits of sort this out then need to to thating we were barely an hour early leaving here. Which made the gridlock on the motorway less than encouraging.
But anyway we left little D with his grand parents and made a fairly brisk run down over the bridge and down to Plymouth. In the ferry terminal a bit early so, we decided to go to the pub for half an hour rather than sit in the car. All made perfect sense to us. Lovely Plymouth local pub that I'm not telling anyone where it is in case the place gets invaded. Got in and there was some country number playing on the juke box and I happened to mention that I thought Ryan Davies had done it better. Now Ryan is another of those people you have never heard of as he died at 40 as he got the big break that would have made him a household name. The effect on a woman sat nearby was galvanic, she was from Swansea and Ryan was the music and comedy of her childhood. We could probably have still been there now, we really had to tear ourselves out of that pub.
Back to the ship and normal service was resumed. I am a bit of a tight git at times and as such rarely if ever print out our ferry tickets preferring to let the staff in the terminal print it with their ink on their paper. So the only proof I had that we were booked on the ferry was a bit 0of paper with a reference number written on it in my handwriting. Buttons weer pushed programmes accessed and nothing was working. After some time the staff just gave up and let everyone on anyway. Saying we could all get our tickets on board.
This of course came as news to the staff at the information desk. They claimed their computer was down too, in fact they could not give me my cabin number did i remember what I had booked. Just as I was going to tell them it was a Commodore class cabin someone turned up with a manifest and i was given a key to our usual sort of cabin in steerage.
This was not actually an area of the Armirique we had experienced before, a cabin close to the bow. Close enough to feel the crash as is smashed into waves trying to make up for time lost on the berth in Plymouth. Close enough to experience the pitch and yaw as it took every wave. I should mention at this stage that it is not unknown for the management to be sick on ships so a generous dose of Scottish medicine was administered to render her comatose.
Came the morning and off the ship we exploded with the house firmly in our sights. A quick check noting the place was all secure and on we went for another fabulous lunch in the Trois Marchands.
Our trip back was a different one to normal, we were going via the fabulous old walled town of St Malo. But not directly First we were visiting friends in Dinan. Dinan is somewhere you simply have to visit if you go to that parrt of Brittany, a fantastic hill top medieval town. Tiny streets wooden buildings - brilliant.
But of course we were not here to look, the student was here to shop and into St Malo and it's shopping centres. It was very fortunate that we had stopped off at the refurbished Intermarche near our house, there was not a lot to get excited about in St Malo. Well there was actually. On the ship and into the restaurant for a fabulous 3 course meal which was nearly as good as lunch.
A far quieter night and home we came. back to her law essay and for me to try and make sense of the new white paper on social care from the assembly. We are taking a very different path to England here in Wales and I think everyone needs to get out and vote yes on Thursday this week,
R .
But anyway we left little D with his grand parents and made a fairly brisk run down over the bridge and down to Plymouth. In the ferry terminal a bit early so, we decided to go to the pub for half an hour rather than sit in the car. All made perfect sense to us. Lovely Plymouth local pub that I'm not telling anyone where it is in case the place gets invaded. Got in and there was some country number playing on the juke box and I happened to mention that I thought Ryan Davies had done it better. Now Ryan is another of those people you have never heard of as he died at 40 as he got the big break that would have made him a household name. The effect on a woman sat nearby was galvanic, she was from Swansea and Ryan was the music and comedy of her childhood. We could probably have still been there now, we really had to tear ourselves out of that pub.
Back to the ship and normal service was resumed. I am a bit of a tight git at times and as such rarely if ever print out our ferry tickets preferring to let the staff in the terminal print it with their ink on their paper. So the only proof I had that we were booked on the ferry was a bit 0of paper with a reference number written on it in my handwriting. Buttons weer pushed programmes accessed and nothing was working. After some time the staff just gave up and let everyone on anyway. Saying we could all get our tickets on board.
This of course came as news to the staff at the information desk. They claimed their computer was down too, in fact they could not give me my cabin number did i remember what I had booked. Just as I was going to tell them it was a Commodore class cabin someone turned up with a manifest and i was given a key to our usual sort of cabin in steerage.
This was not actually an area of the Armirique we had experienced before, a cabin close to the bow. Close enough to feel the crash as is smashed into waves trying to make up for time lost on the berth in Plymouth. Close enough to experience the pitch and yaw as it took every wave. I should mention at this stage that it is not unknown for the management to be sick on ships so a generous dose of Scottish medicine was administered to render her comatose.
Came the morning and off the ship we exploded with the house firmly in our sights. A quick check noting the place was all secure and on we went for another fabulous lunch in the Trois Marchands.
Our trip back was a different one to normal, we were going via the fabulous old walled town of St Malo. But not directly First we were visiting friends in Dinan. Dinan is somewhere you simply have to visit if you go to that parrt of Brittany, a fantastic hill top medieval town. Tiny streets wooden buildings - brilliant.
But of course we were not here to look, the student was here to shop and into St Malo and it's shopping centres. It was very fortunate that we had stopped off at the refurbished Intermarche near our house, there was not a lot to get excited about in St Malo. Well there was actually. On the ship and into the restaurant for a fabulous 3 course meal which was nearly as good as lunch.
A far quieter night and home we came. back to her law essay and for me to try and make sense of the new white paper on social care from the assembly. We are taking a very different path to England here in Wales and I think everyone needs to get out and vote yes on Thursday this week,
R .
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