Weston Super Mare and the Quantocks were my travel destination last weekend with young Susan me lass. Not one of the world’s most exotic regions but we had a wild time, some chips, a full Somerset breakfast (including two rashers of bacon, three mushrooms and twenty five baked beans . . . each!), no donuts, one fridge magnet, no tattoos, an in depth exploration of Brean and a good old chat about the places in the world we’d rather go to than Brean. An absolutely splendid weekend indeed!
Mi imán magnífico para una nevera
de Weston Super Mare.
Since then I have worked and worked and worked and panicked about getting fit for my ‘challenging’ walking trip coming up soon in Bosnia and about getting fit for the rest of my life. But this week I’ve had a little bit more free time on my hands for relaxation and preparation because I’ve spent a lot less of it engaged in the age old art of eating. My blood pressure, body mass index and shopping bill are all plummeting as I type.
And I’ve been to the dentist for a check up. The new dentist is very nice but I miss the old one. The old one used to go cycling in Cuba and he used to tell me rather eloquently about his adventures in the far distant corners of the globe as I spat out lumps of tooth and clots of blood in response. You wouldn’t get Judith Chalmers doing that now would you? Well not unless she was presenting ITV's Wish You Were Here programme from Brean.