Up at half past four after sleep disturbed by much heavy coughing. Unpleasant chronic catarrh persists after the other symptoms of this virus that's plagued me all week. The sky was clear with the rising sun as we drove to Sophia Gardens, twenty minutes before the coach was due to leave. I watched it pull in and then we parted company. Ten minutes later I had a phone call from Rachel to say that I had booked her on the previous coach!
I've no idea how this happened. Evidently neither of us checked the e-ticket details properly. She was told she'd have to buy another ticket, but she was in no position to do so with no cash and no internet on her American phone, so I drove in haste back to the coach station to use my phone to buy her another ticket. As I arrived, she rang again to say the coach driver was going to let her travel in any case. There must have been plenty of room on the coach. How kind! What a relief!
I drove home and went back to bed, but it was difficult to fall asleep properly as my mind was racing and I was upset by a chaotic departure, which Rachel took in her stride. She sent me a message from Heathrow after she checked in and was safely installed in the Departures area. The flight stats app told me the plane departed at 11.00 on schedule.
A rather flat day of news in the absence of endless argument between politicians desperately trying to cram as much of their brand of policy as possible into interview time allotted, all sounding tired if not bored with the sounds of their own voices. After six mind numbing weeks it's election day. And it's Kath and Anto's wedding anniversary. They're also celebrating completion of their new bathroom installation.
I got up at nine and had breakfast with Clare and Jas. They wanted to make waffles, but our waffle iron is on its last legs, shedding its non stick coating. I spent the rest of the morning dozing in the arm chair in an effort to recover as I was feeling awful. They went out in search of a suitable waffle iron in town, but without success. At lunchtime, we drove to Barry Island calling in all the big stores we could find on the way there and back to see if we could buy one, but still no success. It's on-line purchase or nothing.
We wanted to show Jasmine a beach with family memories for us over generations for nearly a century in the case of the Kimber clan. The world wide popularity of the TV comedy 'Gavin and Stacey' has boosted its fame as a tourism destination. The front looks cleaner and bright than I ever recall, with everything in good repair, and strict enforcement policies (announced bilingually intermittently over a Tannoy system) reminding holiday makers to leave their rubbish in the ample supply of bins provided on the front, and not to drink alcohol on the beach but only in the licensed premises provided. Beach wardens are employed with power to impose fines on the non-compliant. It ensures a clean safe family friendly environment. Barry has not been gentrified as such, but uplifted by insisting on appropriately high standards of behaviour in the public realm, which encourages more social investment. Bravo. A win for the town under labour leadership. Shape of things to come for the country? I hope so.
We ate sausages and fish cakes on the beach (no chips this time), circled by gulls ready to pounce and snatch food from our hungry hands. A radio programme I heard earlier spoke about gull behaviour. They are omnivorous, but have worked out that the scope of the human diet is similar to their own, so they'll hang about where humans eat, not only in search of left-overs, or anything they can snatch easily, given their sharp sight and fantastic aerial mobility. Then we walked up on to Friars Point, but the chill westerly wind was so strong it drove us back to the shelter of the hill. Then we drove to Cold Knap, walked around the lake, but were driven back again by the strong wind along the giant pebble beach. We took refuge in the Romilly Tea Shop near the place we'd parked. For Jasmine it was a surprise, as places with the ethos of an old British tea shop (full of older tea drinkers) are few and far between in the south west USA.
We returned and had supper. Chicken and chorizo for me, omelettes for Clare and Jasmine. Then Jas and I went out and walked with our cameras for three quarters of an hour. Unfortunately we were cut short by increasing rainy drizzle, and returned home. Time for me to watch penultimate episode of 'Hierro', and listen to breaking news of election exit polls after ten. In fact, I watched the final episode as well.
It was gripping, with amazingly little bloodshed given the threat of violence brooding throughout. A very original variant on crime storytelling, with a judge confronted with her assassin and talking him out of completing his mission by stating the logic of his position. The judge's antagonist arrives to rescue her carrying an illegal firearm, but the argument is enough to persuade the killer. As the guardia civil arrives to make an arrest, the antagonist tosses his firearm into the wilderness, to avoid being investigated for its possession. It's a very clever visual statement about the futility of violence. With midnight approaching I headed to bed, knowing that I won't have the energy to stay up all night to listen. But the interest remains.
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