Coming home is always hard but this year it's been so much harder.
Whilst away, at work they announced that they were placing my role officially 'at risk' and that they were looking to lose a number of people. Add onto this the fact that my family (outside my home) don't give a damn about me and my eldest daughter doesn't want anything to do with us - and I really wonder what the hell am I still doing here. There's nothing if my job ends.
I really want to live in mid Wales, quality of life seems so much better. I need a plan of action.
Supplemental 1510.06; Since writing this things at work have potentially got better with a number of people leaving or with offers of jobs. Still uncertain but there is probably some breathing room. I still feel the same about living out there but hopefully we'll get time to do it properly.
It's taken a while to post this. Not sure why, I've just been sitting on it a while...
It's been a couple of years since we were last here yet despite a couple of minor changes the place felt immediately like home. More like home than home in fact. We arrived a bit early for check in to our cottage but I'd already arranged to be able to park up in front.
Previous years we had stayed in the "cottage" that was part of the Hotel Penwig, and we'd had some great holidays there. When there was a change in management it was no longer the same so for this year we decided to try something new. Our home for the week was a 'real' cottage, an old building with loads of character overlooking the harbour.
We enjoyed the place as we always have, the weather wasn't the best but not the worst either - we managed a couple of visits to the beach. The pubs were largely the same (the Dolau Inn had a slight redecoration) with exception of the Black Lion which had had a major refurbishment. Sadly the Penwig Hotel (where we used to stay) had lost its atmosphere and it seemed all of the regular faces.
We met up with friends and enjoyed an afternoon catching up. Before we left we booked the cottage for next year.
The drive home was filled with sadness. Our hearts were lifted as we drove through Bala when the Vulcan XH558 flew overhead.
23:10 (1508.21) - I had planned for everything to be packed up and ready for tea time today. That went out of the window hours ago. Thankfully everything is (hopefully) ready and we are relaxing before heading to bed.
06:15 - It looks like we will be setting off shortly, bang on schedule. The car is already loaded and soon we will be on our way.
08:05 - I've been driving for a couple of hours now, pretty uneventful. We got over Woodhead pass and through Manchester without delay or incident. I'm currently parked outside the main doors of Chester services, this is our regular comfort stop off when heading to Wales.
09:45 - We crossed over the Welsh border not long after we left Chester, we all always get excited when we see this bridge...
Photo taken from Google Streetview
Our first stop in Wales was at the side of Lake Bala. We had a picnic in the car whilst the rain fell outside.
10:54 - Our final stretch legs / comfort stop was in the beautiful little town of Machynlleth which became famous recently for the wrong reasons. This was in our thoughts during our visit.
Our drive took us through Aberystwyth, Aberaeron and finally we arrived. Driving on the approach road felt strange. We have had a deep love of our destination for many years, missing the last two had an effect on us all. Passed the holiday park and the road narrows, the familiar houses then the Seahorse Inn (a favourite of mine) where we turn down the hill to the sea. We've arrived, its 12:30 and we are here at our spiritual home.
Preparing for a holiday can be stressful. Not for me, as long as I know where I'm going and I've got clean pants for every day then I'm sorted.
A holiday for me is all about clearing your mind and achieving relaxation.
Morticia is going out of her mind worrying about if everything will be done on time. I've no doubt that on Saturday morning we'll be setting off for Wales on schedule.
Yesterday was my cycling club's "100 miler". It was a chance for me to really move my cycling to another level. I achieved 2 personal bests, the overall distance which came to 114.6 miles and also the longest/furthest continuous ride (to the cafe stop) which was around 70 miles.
The ride was from Swinton, South Yorkshire to Narburn, York and back. Adding in my ride from home to Swinton then back afterwards, the ride totaled 114.6 miles. A personal best for distance.
This week we moved workplace as government cuts forced our local building to close. We are all now working from a larger facility and if I'm honest I don't like it. I am one that doesn't like change - a creature of habit if you will. Everyone says I will get used to the larger team in time.
The other issue is that it's a far bit closer to my home. Some would say that's a good thing but not if you cycle and enjoy the extra miles (especially the climb).
Maybe I will get used to the change, let's face it I don't really have much of a choice.
Over a year ago our eldest daughter came back into our lives. Things were good, she moved home and our family was whole again. Then suddenly, I mean like a bolt from the blue, she stated to us that it wasn't working out. She packed a bag and left.
I can try and guess what's going on behind the scenes but I'm not going to waste the energy. My energy is best used holding my family together once more.
She has cut off all ties to us and has not been in contact (apart from replying to a few of my text messages) since she left.
I've been going out almost every Sunday with my new cycling club. I've made new friends and I can feel the benefits over being a 'lone ranger'. Using my cycling camera and a handlebar mount I managed to capture the essence of the Sunday morning ride.
Shaving. A man's right of passage or a lifelong curse?
I've been shaving since I was about 16. As I got older the frequency that I needed to shave increased. I now shave daily but after a few hours you start to see a shadow. My shaving is compounded by the fact that I now shave more than just my face. Before you start having dirty thoughts you should know (if you know me you know) that I shave my head.
I've always been on the lookout for the perfect shaving system. I've had the Gillette and Wilkinson Sword systems but they are so expensive to maintain (especially for my shaving and frequency). I've gone down the budget systems which are cheaper but not brilliant. More recently I've been experimenting with a more old fashioned approach. Shaving like my great Grandad would have. I'm talking about the good old 'safety razor' together with brush and shaving soap. There is definatly a learning curve, the first time I slashed my head to ribbons. Since then I'm getting the hang of it and an appreciation of the art of shaving. I've still got a way to go to mastering the method but it's a satisfying journey. Plus the blades are cheap.
The earliest mention the Royal George public house was in 1869. Throughout the years I imagine the pub must have served the community well. It would have served miners from the nearby Garrowtree mine and steel worker from the works in Masborough.
Fast forward to 2001, industry is a distant memory and deprivation is common in the area. Houses are built opposite (after many years of being a empty patch of land). It's at this point that I come into the story. It's at this point we begin to have issues with the pub behind our house.
I knew there would be some issues when we bought the house, drunks singing and taxis honking horns, I'm pretty tolerant. The issues we started to get were so much worse than that...
Customers smoking weed
Kids playing football
People climbing into our garden
Loud music (speaker put outside on sunny days)
Rowdy behaviour till all hours
It was really driving us mad, especially since our bedroom directly overlooked it. A lot of communication between me, the council and the police (I'm assuming other residents also complained) got the place closed. I always hoped it would reopen with a strong management to turn it into a community asset. It never did.
There was a planning application submitted to convert the building into a large house which was turned down. Then it looked like it might be a restaurant (which we would have apposed because of potential of parking issues).
Last week a fence went up around it and scaffolding went up. We thought it was about to get a refurb (although no planning had been put in). The next thing we knew contractors moved in and started knocking the building down. So now it's a big open space, I'm keeping an eye out for any plans but for now we have a view down the Don Valley.
I was never a customer of the 'George' but I can't help feel a little sad at its demise.
