Sunday, 9 October 2011

237: Weston-Super-Mare Photodump

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.

Last Sunday, my good lady and I perchanced to visit the delightful North Somerset coastal town of Weston Super Mare, by virtue of posessing complementary rail ticketure to any destination upon the First Great Western travel network.

Already in this post I have used the words 'super' and 'great' where they do not apply. I shall say no more, and present you with this; a pictorial record of our visit to the town.

My good lady striking a pose for the Coloured Photomatograph Machine™ The Knightstone Causeway. Complete with drawbridges for the fall of night, to prevent any of the local scallywags from clambering onto 'the master's castle'. The pier stands impassively, a mute witness to the unfortunate mariner who tried to escape this God-forsaken town...

Now I'm not saying Lorraine can't spell HER OWN NAME, but which is it? My good lady, impressed with Weston Super Mare's fine attempt at one of these new fangled 'Piers' Myself, slightly less than impressed with Weston Super Mare's lacklustre attempt at one of these new fangled 'Piers'.

None of the local residents know that out at sea, the Somerset Jurassic Park can clearly be seen... Rumour has it that the locals believe this is the beginning of a bridge to Wales, and has yet to be progressed upon. Many of the locals call this bathing area 'Canute's Pond', as they don't fully understand its apparently magical water-retaining properties...

Rock formations on the beach. The sea was that brown *before* I added the sepia filter, I kid you not. The edge of Knightstone Causeway. The edge of Knightstone Causeway.

No-one local seemed to know the identity of this sculptor's inspiration, and would only avert their eyes whilst muttering about 'the seer a'high'... But hold, what manner of secret cove is this..? Some of Weston Super Mare's beautiful 1930's architecture, without the 1970's architecture in the way...

My good lady, gazing at the ocean, and wondering if it would perhaps have been quicker to have grown, caught and cooked her own fish and chips... The first garrison outpost of the Galactic Empire has been established. There is hope for this town yet... We are all of us in the gutter, but some of us are rolling our eyes and wondering if it's time to go to the train station yet...

Mr Wellesley Phant Esq. From a delightful indoor-market type establishment. I believe this is what the youth of the day are referring to as 'Kicking it old school, Empire style'...

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• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

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